


Not Much With the Damselling

by SpuffyCarrie



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (1992), Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Vampire Slayer, Dirty Thoughts, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Humor, No Underage Sex, POV Alternating, POV Buffy Summers, POV Original Character, POV Spike (BtVS), Slow Burn, Swearing, Teen Crush, Underage Kissing, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2019-11-19 07:56:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 66,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18133016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpuffyCarrie/pseuds/SpuffyCarrie
Summary: Loosely based on the very beginning of the Buffy the Vampire Slayer movie, ( but using BtVS TV series Canon) LA teen, Buffy Summers is trapped in an enchanted elevator alongside William the Bloody, which takes them into the unknown, leaving a desperate Merrick attempting to contact Buffy, and a Slayer on the verge of coming into her own. What will happen when she's confined alongside the notorious vamp, vulnerable, but as snarky as always? And is someone playing with them?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Buffy Summers and William the Bloody meet in the most unexpected way.  
> Dialogue from the Buffy the Vampire Slayer movie has been used in this chapter only.
> 
> Thank you to the fabulous Badwolfjedi for her beta skills in this fic.

[](https://imgur.com/8HjgSVO)

_Since the dawn of man, the vampires have walked among us, killing, feeding. The only one with the strength or skill to stop their heinous evil is the Slayer, she who bears the birthmark, the mark of the coven. Trained by the Watcher, one slayer dies and the next is chosen. And I shall be his sword. Let Satan tremble. The Slayer is born._

**…..**

I barely had the time to listen to the gaggle of girls heading towards the elevator, I’m here for only one, the chosen, and I’ve been tailing her for some time, watching the childish antics she’d allowed herself to become part of.

Doesn’t she know she’s the Slayer? How can she not feel the pull? The last Slayer was deceased, she’s now been called in her place, and I, Merrick Jamison-Smythe, have been charged with the responsibility of becoming her Watcher.

Frustrated, I’m running towards the elevator in my attempt to get to her, to explain to her what she is, how she matters, how I can train her and help her see her destiny.

My brain is buzzing, and I can barely register what’s happening as the young women chatter, sounding like they haven’t a care in the world, apart from how they might entertain themselves next. Their voices roll into one chattering mass.

“What do you think?

"Please. It's so five minutes ago."

"Yeah. What are we doing?"

"Why don't we go see a movie?"

"Where? Omniplex? Nee sitch."

"No way!"  

"No THX, they don't even have Dolby."

"Sorry."

"Beverly Centre? They show previews for foreign movies."

"Oh, yeah. AMC?"

"Bogus corn, totally stale. And the ushers are, like, the acne patrol."

"Totally. OK. OK. How about..."

"We're thinking Pavilion? Sitch solved?"

"Sounds toasty. Excellent."

"What's playing there?"

"I don't know."

"Does it matter?”

My heads spinning with the chatter of young people who seemed to only care for themselves, not for the cause, never for what or whom they might meet on a dark night, not understating their vulnerability.

Then I see her, there’s challenge in her eyes and I have no doubt she’s the one.

“Excuse much. Rude or anything?” The new Slayer says to a bleach blonde guy dressed in leathers as he pushes through the gaggle of girls, losing his girlfriend’s hand as the doors began to close, trapping them both inside.

The doors close before I can reach her, and I run for the stairs.

Buffy needs to know the power she possesses, and I must not lose sight of her, there’s much work to be done.

…

I reach for the button, the others seemed to be more interested in what movie to watch than pressing the elevator button to get us somewhere. I shake my head at their empty ones. Since I’ve been having the bad dreams I want to spend more time alone, and even spending time with Jeffery’s been weird. I just go through the motions, and he seems to buy it.

The dreams have unsettled me, and mom and dad are out of town again this weekend. Not that it matters, they only care if I score high on tests, and they might occasionally come to watch me cheer at a game. Seriously? Who do they think they’re kidding? Ugh, no one!

Oh, yeah, I was saying, so the gang flood out through the elevator doors and this idiot pushes in. I’m like, “God, what a ‘tude.” And he throws my friends to the side and holds his hand out to some skanky ho-bag before I can push back through.

The doors close on his wrist before he could whip them back and he yells something that sounded like, “Bollix!” At the top of his voice and presses every button he can.

What the hell is Bollix? Some sorta drain sanitizer?  I’m like, “Uh, take a chill lozenge, it’ll take uno momento to get back to your ho, uh, girl.” I chew gum for a second and then immediately felt like I’m gonna hurl. My body’s buzzing with the worst feeling, like I’m in the elevator with the devil.

I can feel his eyes on me, and for the first time in my life I feel afraid to look up. My whole body seems to buzz, like it’s a flashing danger light and I can feel my hair standing on end.

“Christ! Does anyone speak proper English in this pit of a country?”

“Uh, yeah, take a memo, they speak American.” I throw in, tutting for effect.

The guy’s gone back to pressing all the buttons while I study him. I can see he’s rocking a Billy Idol look, a long black leather coat, which is probably retro but cool, with killer cheekbones. Not that I’m looking.

“For fucks sake!” the guy’s yelling and booting the elevator controls.

The elevator comes to an abrupt halt between floors.

“Hey!” I say, placing my hands on my hips in true Buffy Summers style. “Not cool!”

He turns and that’s when I see his eyes, aquamarine in the stark light of the elevator and rimmed with black eyeliner, they’re amazing, and it feels like he can see right into my soul. He’s totally old, and, like, goth, but pretty to look at. He’s got a sexy accent but he’s as annoying as hell.

“What? Are you one of these airheads who facies bein’ trapped in a lift for the next six hours? Cause I’m tellin’ you love, I’ve got better things to do.”

“Bite me!” I’m warning him I’m not to be messed with.

“You know,” he says, sauntering across the elevator; which isn’t very big to begin with. “I was savin’ you for later but now’s as good a time as any.”

He’s getting too close, so I punch him in the nose, as surprised as he was when he lands against the wall, blood dripping from his nose. My stomachs hurting, like I’m due my period, but I’ve only had it a few weeks back, awesome, I tell myself ironically.

Nursing my belly with one hand I shake off the punch on the other. “You’re like one of those skanky old men who attacks young girls, forget you!”

“Bloody hell!” He’s standing clutching his nose, “What are you?”

He’s cocking his head and looking me over in wonder, who knows what wonder, Stevie Wonder? “What am I? I’m a girl, in case you hadn’t noticed. Does Elvis talk to you? Do you see spots?”

As soon as the guy begins to glower at me, I decide that probably wasn’t the right thing to say, as he moves closer still. Me and my big mouth.

I can’t think of anything else to say, apart from, “I’ll scream if you come any closer!”

The guy chuckles and shakes his head, then his long tongue slips out through pink, plump lips and he licks at the blood running from his nose.

“Eww.” I mutter, mesmerised by the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen in my life, I think I’m going to hurl. Then his eyes are flashing yellow and I draw in a large breath. Never mind what I am, what the frick is he? My fingers grope for something to hold onto behind me and only find the cold, ridged steel of the elevator.

Blood licker guy must see how terrified I am and sighs dramatically. “Look, I’m not gonna kill you, yet, anyway there are too many witnesses. The soddin’ lift is stuck so we’ll be in here for a bit, I’d say, best make ourselves cosy.” He sits on the floor, one leg out, the other bent, resting his arm on his knee.

“Whatever! Just don’t talk to me, you’re grossing me out.” I try the emergency button on the panel several times and hear a distant ringing. I look down to the floor, its clean if not comfortable, so I sit as far away from the weirdo as possible, tucking my knees up and hugging them to myself. I can’t say I’m not afraid of him, the weird eye thing was terrifying. What is he? Some sort of demon? Or maybe a crack head? He’ll be offering me a bud next.

He takes out a cigarette and goes to light it.

“You can’t smoke in here, and I don’t wanna die from second hand smoke, get it?”

“I can see you’re gonna be a right royal pain in my ass, so listen to me, you stupid bint, you might not live long enough to worry about second hand bloody smoke.” He tuts but places the cigarette behind his ear and continues to play with his lighter.

“So, you keep saying, you freak.” I’m still afraid but can’t help myself, the guys asking for it.

“I wonder what happened to good old-fashioned respect for your elders? Keep your bleedin’ gob shut, valley girl.”

I bite my tongue and the pain centres me. I keep glancing at him, he’s wearing scuffed combat boots and my eye catches the glint of silver rings on his hands, he’s wearing a plain one on his thumb and a skull ring on one of his other fingers. I suppose he looks pretty cool.

After a few minutes his foot starts tapping and he’s murmuring some tune to himself as he snaps his lighter continuously.

……

I’m thinking, while distracting the girl, that there’s something about her that reminds me of someone. There was a lot of power behind that punch, not a disproportionate amount for a human, maybe for a big and muscular bloke, but a little girl like her should barely have touched me. And she has a scent about her, a delectable potency which feels all too familiar.

She should fear me, I’m William the Bloody for fucks sake, but she’s spent the past twenty minutes gobbing off like a washerwoman, and I strangely like it, this disrespectful kid appeals to my evil side.

How long is it going to take before this bloody lift gets moving? I don’t fancy climbing up through the hatch, it’s been a long night, and if I must put up with her company without a fag for much longer I might as well stake myself.

Bleeding Dru, and her insistence that I buy her a new dolly. She left one back in Prague and wouldn’t rest until it was replaced, even if that meant running around like two idiot humans during daylight. I’d much rather be getting my kip or watching telly with a nice bottle of Jack. We’ve already missed the Count on Sesame Street, it’s the highlight of mine and Dru’s day and always makes her smile. Little else does nowadays, poor love still hasn’t recovered from what those bastards did to her and she suffers through the pain, my poor princess.

I can’t rightly say why we came to the grand old U.S of bloody A, but it seemed as good a place as any at the time, especially as Angelus was supposed to be around this neck of the woods. We haven’t seen hide nor hair of him yet, but I’m determined to find the miserable bastard. I heard he was living on rats somewhere, but you know how the news is in the vamp world, like a game of Chinese whispers.

Shame I can’t nosh down on this one while I’m waiting, but with Dru being so slow now it isn’t worth the risk. I know I can get away but not so sure about my dark princess waiting for me outside the elevator.

Fuck, I really need a fag, wonder if the smoke police over there might keep her trap shut if I just spark up? Not bloody likely.

…

The seconds are ticking by tediously slowly. The trouble is, I just can’t help but stare at the hands moving on my watch. It’s either that, or look at him and I really didn’t want to go there as I risk being caught gawking.

The constant clicking of his lighter is driving me crazy. “Will you just cut it out, you jerk!” I’m grabbing for his lighter, pulling myself up on my knees and slapping at his hands as he tries to grab it back.

“If you don’t give me back my lighter, I’ll bloody k…!” The guy doesn’t have time to finish his sentence as there’s a bang and the lights go out, leaving the red emergency light on. The elevators shifting and then its moved down by around a foot, then another.

“For fucks sake, what the fuck is happenin’?” I can hear him yell as he gropes for the walls, mimicking my own movements.

Closing my eyes, I’m holding my breath, fearing any movement might trigger the elevator to fall again, as the lights flash on and off. “This is not of the good.” I say, not realising I’ve spoken out loud.

“You’re damn right it isn’t, sweetheart. Ten points and a cupie doll to the girl for observation.”

I let out an involuntary scream of terror as the elevator falls again, only by a few inches, but it’s enough to make me want to pee my pants.

“Oh, god, we’re gonna die!” It’s all I can think, and I find myself repeating it over and over. Usually I’m the one people can rely on to be cool in a situation like this, but right now, I’m trying not to call out for my mom.

The roof of the elevator begins to buzz with a purple and white electric charge, forking and edging its way down the walls.

I look to bleached hair guy and his eyes are wide and almost a purple in hue, as he watches the current flow above and follows me to stand in the centre of the floor.

Another jolt throws me into his arms and I can only register that he pulls me close as the elevator drops again, then we began to free fall, I hear screaming before I black out.


	2. Chapter 2

[](https://imgur.com/8HjgSVO)

“Work you fucker!”

I wake and hear him yelling, and I’m still clenched under the arm of the guy, feeling the strength of his movements as he punches the emergency button with a closed fist. “W-what happened?” My heads filled with cotton wool, and I can’t get my limbs to move properly. I really don’t want to be held under this guy’s armpit, like, he doesn’t stink of body odour, but he is a burn out and reeks strongly of cigarettes.

He’s looking at me with a soft expression I can’t read, almost like he doesn’t recall why I’m there, either.

Letting go of me, he lets me stumble to the floor while he lights a cigarette. “Not the brightest cheerleader, are you?” He’s taking a long drag and blowing the smoke into the air, making me feel like I might hurl.

My stomach is lurching, and I put my hands over my mouth to hold it in, but I’m not quick enough, it was on its way before I could control it. Suppose he was just in the right place at the right time, as for the third time that day I hear him say, “For fucks sake!” while I coat his boots in technicolour puke.

….

Bloody humans, they can never keep their cookies to themselves! These bloody boots are artfully scuffed, and it’s going to take weeks to get them right again. Should make the chit lick it up, little bitch. Second thoughts, maybe not, there is a limit, even for me.

We’ve fallen much further than just a few floors, I know it, and I reckon it was more like twenty. There was no hit at the bottom, the lift just slowed and stopped, but for a minute I thought we might both be toast. I’m not that easy to kill but smacking the floor at high velocity will hurt like hell for a few days. The little bit over there was conked out, so she didn’t feel it, but I don’t reckon were in Kansas anymore, more like Willie Wonka’s Chocolate Factory, reversed.

I can’t rightly say why I grabbed the girl when we fell, some sort of left over human instinct maybe? She’s groaning now, she’ll probably be crying for her mum next.

How old is she? Perhaps fifteen, sixteen? Pretty little thing but too young for my tastes, too old for Dru’s – not that she’s awfully picky right now, and we have to take what we can get while she’s in this state.

Dru, bloody hell! She might wander off, get herself into trouble with some wanker. Silly cow can’t even get rid of the evidence of a kill, she’s so weak now, relies on me, she does. My belly flutters when I think of my Dru, she loves me in her own way, but I’m damned if I know what it is.

I’m kicking the worst of the vomit off my boots when an idea comes to me, if I can just get my fingers in the gap between the doors, I might be able to open it, otherwise, the roof hatch it is.

……

I’m feeling a little better and I watch the guy start working on the doors. “Shouldn’t we just wait for someone to rescue us?”

“Just you sit there, pet, the cavalry aint comin’ this time. We’ve fallen too far.”

My mind was buzzing, what did that mean? How could we have fallen too far? “How can we fall too far?” I blurt out, I’m nibbling my bottom lip to the point of pain.

“Now you’re getting’ it, askin’ the right questions.” He shoots me a strange look, like I’m some kind of idiot. “We should’ve fallen, one, maybe two floors, we fell around twenty in my estimation, I was with it the whole time, unlike you, who was out for the count.”

I couldn’t dispute that. Looking at my watch, I see it’s stopped and there’s no way to tell how long we’ve been in here.

My body’s shaking as I move on my knees and join him in trying to pry open the doors. My fingers are smaller than his, but somehow, I get a grip, pulling it enough for him to begin to lever them open. Within seconds he’s in between them, forcing them open with his shoulder, one boot flush with the right door, his hands thrusting the left door open.

Once the doors are open I’m looking up at him and blink as I thought I saw his face change. I’m pretty sure I saw ridges on his face but relax again as I see his face is just how it was before, I don’t think I’ve recovered from my fainting spell, so I’m putting it down to that. He seems out of breath, but he’s giving me an amused look of gratitude as I fall to the floor, exhausted.

Looking up, I can see we’re trapped between floors and there’s a gap barely only large enough for us to squeeze through. Worry’s prodding at my belly. “What if the lift drops while we’re trying to get through? It’d suck if I get my head chopped off.”

I could see him watching me thoughtfully, “Yeah, likely it would, you go first.” He says, his eyes narrowed.

Anger shoots up from my gut, “You have _got_ to be kidding me? Are you juiced or something?”

“Do I need to pick you up and shove you through? Or are you gonna be a good girl and just do it? You need me to push your butt through, or hadn’t you thought about that?”

“There’ll be no pushing of my butt!” He won’t go anywhere near my butt and if he tries, I’ll punch him again, it seemed to work well enough the last time.

“How about this then?”

Holy Jesus! I’m losing my mind here, his face has changed, and he has nasty looking fangs. I clutch my bladder, desperate not to let it go in terror. He’s a frickin’ vampire!

…

I have no choice but to drop into game face, she’s being a stubborn bint and thinks she’s ruling the roost. Up until now it seemed prudent not to show her what I am, she would’ve run around screaming in, what is essentially, a tiny space, causing more hassle, and then I would’ve had to bite her. I couldn’t say her blood doesn’t sing to me, like the thought of listening to the Ramone’s in a seedy New York club on a hot summer night, but I’m no fledge, I don’t know what’s happening here and I might need her for a snack later.

She’s scrambling for the gap in the doors on her own, jumping up and down, all five feet two of her. She can’t get a grip on the edge and I’ve been told not to push her butt. What can I say? The whole situation amuses me, as I watch her knacker herself out.

Eventually she drops to the floor, sobbing. “What are you?”

“I’m your worst nightmare, pet, the big bad. Name’s Spike.” I tell her.

“Y-you’re a vampire.” She’s informing me, as if I hadn’t been aware of it for the past hundred years, and I can’t help but bite back laughter.

“Doesn’t really matter now, pet, we’re stuck together, and you need me.”

“They’ll come for us, get the elevator working.” She looks like she’s talking to herself more than me.

I look up at the hatch, almost certain what we’ll see if we open it. This whole thing reeks of magic, and nothing good ever comes from that.

“I’ll give you a leg up an’ you can have a squiz through the hatch, then?” I’m getting closer to losing my temper, more in need of nicotine and feeling a tiny bit claustrophobic. I’ve been buried in the ground before now and, even though I don’t need to breathe, I can feel the stagnant air around me. It might not be long before a lack of oxygen makes the bird pass out again.

“You do it if you think you’re the big bad! Vampires can fly, can’t they? Like in The Lost Boys?”

“Piffle,” I can’t even begin to tell her how stupid and inaccurate that movie was, me and Dru laughed ourselves into hysterics at the movie when we saw it, before having ourselves a few snacks from the back row during the bonfire scene. “If you think that’s what real vamps are, then you’re deluded, pet.”

She’s getting irked again, some of her spirit coming back, “I didn’t think they fricken’ existed, now you’re telling me the movies were wrong too? Give me a damn break!”

“Christ, can’t you just let me give you a leg up and take a soddin’ look out of the hole?”

“You’ll eat me, you’ll wait till I’m not looking, and you’ll take a bite.” She says, her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

I’m slowly losing patience, “I’ll lift you up an’ you will look, I’m sure I can resist you, love, don’t soddin’ flatter yourself.” Really? That logic was like saying every gay man fancied you just because you were male. Didn’t quite work that way, as I found back in the roaring twenties when hanging around London with Dru. There was a gay scene and Dru loved the attention they paid her, knowing they were all after me as she held court. Not all though, which is my point, some preferred a tall, thick and masculine man, or other types, they would’ve loved Angelus.

I’m digressing. I soften my voice. “Sweetheart just do it, then we can see what we’re dealin’ with.” I can see she isn’t one to be trifled with, despite her young age.

Her green eyes flicker back and forth as she considers mine, unyielding until she seems to come to a decision.

“OK, but you fang out or touch me in any other way and I’ll, I’ll…”

“You’ll what?” I ask.

“I don’t know, but you’ll get it!”

“Fair enough, pet, shall we?” I offer her my hands, clasped together, ready for her foot.

……

I know I’m probably the biggest space cadet on the planet, but I tell him yes, even though I want to curl into a ball and make myself invisible. I’m wigging out as I place my foot on his hands, but someone has to go, and I didn’t fancy trying to hoist him up to the hatch myself, a lucky punch is a lucky punch but I’m no Wonder Woman.

He’s lifting me so easily I’m feeling like I’m floating on air, and I’m right at the hatch before I have a chance to think. I push the hatch and it slams open with a thunk, revealing only darkness. My eyes are adjusting, and then I see it, a cave with hundreds of bats flying above my head. I wince as one swoops and tangles itself in my hair and I begin to scream, trying to pull it out as its claws get more and more tangled. Before I know it, I find myself on the floor of the elevator once more and see Spike chomping on the critter as if it were a Baby Ruth. It’s screaming and I’m covering my ears at its pitiful cries.

I hear a thump as he throws it from the hatch, its dead and drained of its blood, that much is clear.

“Just as I thought, someone’s playin’ with us.” He says, I watch him licking first his thumb and then his lips.

“Are you for real? Who would do that? I’m just a normal girl and this is all your fault!”

From my place, lying on my back, I dare to glance up and see a small rivulet of blood dribble down his chin, it makes me want to hurl again.

“There’s more to this, if they wanted me, they would’ve taken Dru too, or just me, this is personal. Whatever big bad did this, wants you too.”

“It must be you, what would they want with me?”

He’s looking thoughtful as he strides up and down, his coat swishing behind him, but he doesn’t answer my question.

“Did you see any way to get back up from here? Any maintenance ladders? Ropes? Sunlight?”

I shake my head. “No, just a cave full of bats, a gazillion of them, reaching for miles above.”

My clothes are wrinkled up over my stomach and I see him turn away as I adjust them. Not only are there vampires, this one seems like a gentleman, even if he eats yucky bats and curses a lot.

“I’m not going through the gap in the doors if that’s what’s waiting for us.” I inform him.

“I doubt it’ll be the same there, just an inkling, pet. Whatever this is wants us out there.” He nods his head to the gap.

“Don’t call me your pet! I’m no one’s pet! And, I’m. Not. Going. First!” I’m determined, and nothing he can do will change that.

“For Christ’s sake, you lift me then, but I’m tellin’ you, if I get dusted, you won’t last five bleedin’ minutes in here!”

“So, what? If I go first you might stay here in this cosy elevator and leave me out there to be eaten by those critters!”

“Get a bloody grip, do you really think I’d take you this far, just so I could throw you to the wolves?”

The urge to pee is back again with a vengeance. Wolves? No-one mentioned wolves. But then, even he didn’t know what was out there. I have a swiss army knife my dad left in the kitchen drawer at home. I took it when I started getting the dreams, it helps me feel safer at night when I stash it under my pillow. While my parents are away I’ve taken to carrying it with me in my pocket, it seems that was the best idea I’ve ever had, looking at the current situation. I don’t know why I forgot I had it, distraction I suppose.

“You’re the supernatural creature, you go!” I yell.

I watch him scoping me out as he strides from one end of the small space to the other, he likes to stride, obviously, and his coat flaps behind him in quite an attractive way. He looks like a lion in a small cage at the zoo and I’m not sure what I’m more nervous of, him in here, or what’s out there.

He tuts and clenches his jaw, he does that a lot. “Alright, get yourself ready. You’d better be bloody stronger than you look!”

I limber up for a minute, like I’m getting ready for practice. I’ve done it a million times, getting ready to boost other girls onto the pyramid. Squatting, I hold my hands ready for him, my fingers laced together.

Spike’s coat flaps in my face and I shake my head to push it aside, then his heavy boot is followed by the weight of his body. His boot’s roughened sole prickles my hands, no doubt leaving an imprint on my palms. I squat and go for the launch, and he scrambles through the gap and I’m glad the weight was gone, it made my shoulders ache. I’m shaking both hands to get rid of the numb feeling when I hear him speak.

“Fuck.” Is all I hear from above and my heart starts to hammer.

…..

I’m not sure if I’ve lost my mind, like I have some form of elder vamp dementia? I’m not as old as Peaches so, no, maybe not. But as soon as I get through the gap, I see _her_ , the same girl as was hiding down in the elevator shaft. Except it wasn’t her. Instead, she’s some bird dressed like she was from the dark ages, fighting with some vamp, err, from the dark ages.

Shit. The doppelganger is dead, and it doesn’t seem to take long. She’s a bit of a rubbish Slayer to get her throat ripped out like that in such a crap fight. It’s a shame I don’t even get a chance to kill my third as I’m ten times the fighter these pricks are.

“Err, pet? Think you need to get up here, and quick.”

An idea quickly forms in my mind. We’re stuck here for now and we need to get away without being spotted. If the bird down below is going to dress in the clothes of the dead one, she’ll need to get up here quickly, she could be my ticket to getting on in this place. I might be able to get away with a leather coat, but she’s a sitting duck in her Cali girl get up.

I look down and see her pouting, green eyes intense and her arms crossed as she glares at me.

“Well? I’m not getting up there by myself.” She tells me, and I think about leaving her there for a meal once I’ve explored. God, she’s such a pain in the sodding arse.

“At least lift your bloody arms up, I’m not a bloody teleportation device!” I snap, “Reach up as far as you can!”

Lying on my belly, I hang my arms down and cuff the tips of her hot little fingers with my own, “Can you jump? As, unless I’m bloody elastic man, my arms are staying this length, you stupid bint.”

“I’m being polite right now, but if I could reach your hands I’d break your freaking fingers, god, I hate you so much right now!” She’s complaining, while sneering up at me.

I feel a dip in the mud and wedge my boot in it, edging forward slightly. “The feeling, love, is absolutely mutual,” I tell her, my teeth gritted as I edge forward, just about reaching her wrist, before clasping and pulling.

She’s managed to gain purchase and I feel her hand on my shoulder as she hoists herself up, the rushing blood of her femoral artery itching at my fangs as her thigh passes my nostrils.

Climbing over me, I reckon she makes a point of kicking me in the back of my neck as she scrambles over my back and through the gap. I crick my neck before getting up, wanting more than ever to drain her and leave her here where no-one would ever find her.

I hear a shriek and my name called, bloody hell, why did I tell her my name? Now I’ll be stuck with her mewling on as she complains about everything. This is hardly going to be a place with the home comforts the chit’s used to.

Next thing I know, a vamp hits me full force, almost pushing me back inside the elevator, flipping over me and falling inside onto his back, his legs flailing like an upturned cockroach.

I right myself with a handspring before spreading my senses out, only to find another vamp heading towards me, flying through the air, intent on reaching the girl, I duck, and watch the girl dust her hands off for a moment. She seems far too pleased with herself to realise she hasn’t dusted either of them, and I head towards an overhanging tree branch as the vamp stands again, hissing at us both.

Snapping off a branch easily I turn back to the git and tell him who he’s dealing with. “Think your takin’ the piss, mate.” I say as I launch the sturdy branch into his chest like a javelin and he dusts, just like a good vamp should in the presence of a Master vamp.

The feeling of satisfaction causes me to chuckle.

“What the hell was that?” She’s asking.

“Just your common or garden vamp. I think we need to get moving, just in case there are any more.” I say, fashioning my branch into a makeshift stake as best I can.

She looks around the dark, dense forest. “What if there are more?”

“Then you’d best make yourself a stake and see them off all proper, like. I have a notion you’ll know what to do.” I twirl my stake around my fingers and place it in my duster pocket with a grin as she glowers at me.

Moving to towards the dead girl, I check her pulse before I remove her dress, feeling the stare from the valley girl as she watches me from behind. It seems like such a waste for a Slayer to end her days like this, so I’m gentle, leaving the warriors extensive undergarments in place to cover her modesty and pulling her towards a tree hollow before placing her inside. All the while I hide her face, not wanting my new acquaintance to see who she looks like.

“What are you doing? Did you kill her? She didn’t become d-dust, she’s not like those vampires?” California girl asked.

“Not me, them.” I tell her, not wanting to get into a long conversation about the whys and wherefores. I begin breaking off branches to cover the opening of the metal box, which is out of place in the woods to say the least. She’s still watching me and I wish she’d bloody well help, rather than rubber necking.

I have an inkling of what this girl is, and she has no fucking idea, I’m just readying myself for a baptism of fire.

……………

What the hell was a stake? Spike’s twirling a branch around like he’s some kind of Jedi Master and looking pretty pleased with himself.

All I know is that we’ve reached some sort of hell dimension, you know, like in that movie, Hellraiser. I feel gooseflesh cover my body, that Pinhead guy was scary, I don’t know what I’ll do if I come up against him.

He starts to undress some girl who I hadn’t noticed was lying dead in the undergrowth. Spike has a look on his face which is unreadable, and then he places her carefully, even tenderly, inside a hole in a tree. He’s silent for a few minutes as he looks up at the stars. Who knows what he’s doing or thinking? I’m feeling antsy and I want to get moving, there’s too much countryside here for a city gal and he’s freaking me out.

Throwing the dress into my hands he stalks off, leaving me with tons of unanswered questions and dead woman’s clothes. I’ve never worn charity clothes in my life, why would he think this dress was as good as anything from Benetton? I sigh, staring at the grey cloth and notice a pocket inside the skirt, inside is a perfectly carved wooden stake and a bottle of holy water, I finger them for a moment as the bottle has an intricate silver cross inlayed on its front and the stake, some words I can’t see carved into the wood. Great. I’m carrying some nun’s dress who did whittling or something. Could this day get any better?

I see only Spike’s radioactive coloured hair as he walks through the dark and forbidding woods into the distance as a branch breaks close to me. I let out an involuntary yip and call out to him as I start jogging in his direction. “Hold up, Luke Skywalker.”

He halts for a moment, the moonlight lighting up his face as he lifts his head and sniffs the breeze, ignoring me before he again begins his purposeful strut through the forest.

An owl hoots so close to me I almost feel its breath, and I quicken my pace, folding the dress over my arm in an attempt not to trip over the lengthy material and following the Billy Idol lookalike into the night.

…..

 “Spike, I can’t walk any further, I’ve blisters and I didn’t dress for a ten mile hike this morning.” She’s saying as she stops to investigate the heel of her shoe.

I have to give her credit, she’s walked at least five miles without complaint and she’s not actually whining now. I can smell the town in the near distance, the fireplaces of the townsfolk only smouldering white embers, as the barest hint of cerulean blue and pink on the horizon reminds me I’ll need to find somewhere to crash before dawn fully takes hold.

Finding a crumb of compassion in my demon soul, I realise I’ve turned and walked back to her. “You need to change into the dress, pet, either that or we’ll both be for it when we get to the town over the hill. If what I’m thinking is right, we’ve been dropped right into British history at some point, and judging by that dress, I’m thinking it might be around sixteen-hundred.”

She’s raising her head like a meercat and squinting tiredly, “I can’t see any town? And, eww, I don’t want to wear this death dress, it smells like sweat and mothballs.”

Mothballs, right, they don’t even exist right now, I think. I’m not overly educated in the like. I’m as fucked off by the situation as she is, but somethings telling me if we didn’t make it out together we’ll both die. I’ve given it a lot of thought as we’ve been walking, and whomever has cast the spell had set us up good and proper, probably thinking that pitting William the Bloody against a baby Slayer would end in carnage for one or the both of us. She annoys the bloody hell out of me, but I need to keep her safe, however annoying the chit is. What’s funnier is that she doesn’t give a crap about the point in history we’ve found ourselves in, either that or she has no clue what it means and is more bothered by the dress she needs to wear.

Her belly gurgles. She’s hungry and I could’ve heard it a mile away. I decide the adage of using honey rather than vinegar to catch flies is the best approach.

“If you put the dress on, I’ll find you some food and somewhere safe to sleep, how does that sound, sweetheart?” Sweetheart? I’m nearly slitting my own throat at calling a Slayer, baby or not, something so sickly sweet.

She’s pouting, again. God, she’d be dinner ten times over for me at any other time. I’m starving too, my tummies doing all sorts of gurglies. I gave my last meal to Dru yesterday, to help make her strong, and having this little bint, and her thrumming heartbeat right here, has made me almost desperate for someone to eat. Dru, oh, fuck, I hope she’s gone back to the digs and waited for me, I can’t lose her, my black beauty.

I keep watch as the little girl goes behind the tree and gets into the dress and only turn as I hear the crunch of grass that signals she’s walking back towards me. The dress is a perfect fit, as if I ever doubted it would be.

Yawning, she limps as she reaches my side and I’m hating myself as she’s bringing out a maternal side to me that I never thought I had, especially for humans. She’s young and has the last of her puppy fat. I’m in no doubt that she’ll grow into a beautiful young woman in a few years, with boys fawning over her like she was some valley princess. I’m so tired my mind is thinking of such trifles when I should be getting us to safety for the coming day.

“Can you walk?” I find myself asking.

“Yeah.” She clearly lies as she stumbles.

“For fucks sake.” I mutter, lifting her into my arms and I make a start for the hilltop. She’s asleep before we hit the summit.


	3. Chapter 3

[](https://imgur.com/8HjgSVO)

I’m itchy but I’m feeling comfy under a heavy blanket, wrapped around something large and warm. I can feel the sun beaming down onto my face and I stretch. There’s a rustle underneath me as I sit, to suddenly find the largest cow I’ve ever seen in my life. It’s cream coloured, and it has giant horns. My god, and it stinks to high heaven! Like nothing my nose has ever smelled before or ever wants to again. I scoot backwards, my back hitting a loose plank of wood and I’m shaking my hands rapidly in disgust that I’ve even touched the beast. I’m on a comfortable bed of straw and it’s clear I’ve slept inside a barn, right beside the cow, because I stink too. It has a massive, sweet face and it leans over and moos at me, louder than I ever expected a cow could do. It’s so weird, the cow’s stomach is enormous, and it begins to move like there’s something inside. I cover my mouth as I think I might scream, especially as I know I was sleeping with my head laid right on its belly.

Rational. Be rational Buffy. Being logical isn’t something which comes easily to me. I have school, my friends, my boyfriend, cheerleading, school dances, and mom does all the sensible thinking for me.

OK, this cow is not an alien, this cow is pregnant, my health classes taught me about reproduction, but this was all kinds of yucksome. A wooden beam moves behind me, and a cold hand covers my mouth. I squeak in terror.

“Get in here!” A familiar voice hisses.

I scramble away, my hands grabbing at the hay and letting out a yelp. “You!”

“Yeah, it’s me, you idiot, get in here right now or you’ll be burned at the stake for messing with the sodding animals!”

Peering inside the gap between the plank of the barn wall, I can see Spike’s made himself a bed inside and there's plenty of room for me.

I sigh, I’m still really tired, and the cocoon he’s made with straw inside looks mighty inviting and comfortable. I know I’ve only been asleep for a few hours, and my ankle is throbbing as it reminds me of the gruelling walk last night.

Opening the plank fully, I crawl inside and sit cross legged before the vampire I’ve found myself entangled with.

He stares at me once he pulls the plank back into place. There’s barely enough light for me to see my surroundings in the dim light.

“Christ, I thought you were gonna have the farmer in here and get us arrested with your yelling!” He’s grumpy during the day, that much is clear.

“Yeah, right, if you woke up on the belly of a pregnant cow, it would be awesome for you too, you Neanderthal!” I hiss.

Rubbing his hands through his hair and then over his face, he’s looking angry with me, in fact, angry is an understatement.

“Do you know what? I don’t know why I bother, I put you next to the soddin’ cow, so you wouldn’t freeze to bloody death. Next time, you won’t be so lucky!” He was turning over and pulling his coat tightly around himself.

Why do I feel like I’m in trouble? His tone is like mom’s when she’s grounding me for doing something stupid.

“Uh, Spike?” Yep, not getting anywhere with that. “Spike, I’m sorry, it was nice of you to think about keeping me warm.” I say, hoping he won’t bite my head off, literally.

Nothing.

I feel a sharp reminder in belly that I’m hungry and he must've heard the grumble as he's turning over and pulling two apples, an unpeeled carrot and a piece of cheese from the hay beside him. He must have stolen it, but I'm so hungry its looking like an à la carte meal to me.

I’m looking into his eyes with the most gratitude I can muster, “Thank you, I love cheese.” I whisper as he’s moving back onto his side, facing away from me.

“Be careful, pet, I don’t think it’s pasteurised and we’ll be stuck here ‘til dark.”

I don’t get what he’s trying to say, and I can’t remember what pasteurised is, so I eat it anyway. Feeling sated, I lay down beside him. I think he’s asleep, but I don’t think vampires breathe, so I can’t tell.

I shiver, and he sighs, taking off his duster and laying it over us both. I settle on my side, facing away from him, but seeing some bugs crawling through the hay I purse my lips before turning the other way. If I stare at Spike’s back, I can forget about bug city and it isn’t as bad.

…

I wake with her clinging to my back like a limpet, and the urge to drain her is strong. I’m starving, and I know I’ll need to hunt tonight or she’ll likely be my next meal.

It’s been so long since I’ve felt the gentle touch and warmth of a human, I decide to leave her be for now, we’ll probably have to sneak around a bit tonight and I need her batteries fully charged. I know I’m lying to myself, making it about her, she’s like my own personal electric blanket and I feel her body heat seep into me, making me feel almost human myself. It’s a good feeling.

She moans in her sleep, dreaming I’d say, then she mumbles, “I need the cheese”, before letting out a loud snore. I struggle to retain composure as I want to burst out laughing. Am I thinking she’s cute? I suppose I am, but I’d never admit to it, after all, I am evil.

So, we have a few things on our itinerary for tonight. I need to feed and then we need to track down the other, deader Slayer’s home, and figure out if the bint had a watcher. I’ve never held any high esteem for the Watchers council, they had me tailed for years after I killed Nikki Woods. Of course, Dru and I are like mist, usually moving from one place to another so quickly they didn’t stand a chance. Eventually the bastards gave up. Anyway, I’m rambling. What I’m thinking is the Watcher might be able to help us, or at least the girl. What’s her name anyway? I never asked because I didn’t want to get too attached. Knowing the Slayers name makes it personal and I just want to be rid of the bint and get back to my ripe wicked plum. Oh, fuck, she could be dusted! I’m anxious about her wellbeing, hopefully she’s made her way back to the digs.

The suns setting so I rouse sleeping beauty. I want to kick her and tell her to get up, but she looks so peaceful and childlike in her slumber I settle for patting her shoulder. “Wake up sleepy head.” I blurt out without thinking, what the fuck am I doing? I forgot for a moment, who or what I am. I’m not some bloody nanny in Mary Poppins. Spit spot, my brain reminds me, and I groan, pushing the memory of that godawful movie Dru made me watch a million times over because it reminded her of London.

She stretches in a delightful way and my eyes are drawn to her carotid artery, throbbing away under the bronzed skin of her slender neck and I lick my lips, not realising she’s looking right at me.

Opening her eyes widely and scooting back away from me, she yells, “You were thinking about eating me!”

Shit. She wasn't wrong, but she’ll have the whole village in here shouting like that. I move to her side in a flash and cover her mouth. “Shut it! Do you want all and bloody sundry in here chasing us with pitchforks?”

Her voice is muffled as she glares at me with a look which would kill if it could.

“Keep it down, goldilocks, now what were you trying to say?” I remove my hand and allow her to speak, against my better judgement.

“I said, you were gonna eat me!”

“I was not!” I protest but it falls on deaf ears as she retaliates like a child. Well, I suppose she is a child. And I had thought about it.

“Were too!”

For Christs sake, she’ll be sticking her tongue out at me next and then I’ll be more than tempted. I clench my fists as an image of warm blood flooding my mouth from her tongue reminds me of my hunger.

“Whatever, pet.”

“Buffy. My names Buffy, you never asked before, so I thought I’d tell you.”

“Now’s not the time for jokes pet, just tell me your real name.” I say. I’m not putting up with her juvenile games.

“It _is_ my real name. Sheesh, like Spike is number one in the book of baby names for nineteen ninety-six! Forget you, if you don’t want to use my name, then don’t bother. It’s no skin off my nose.”

Huh, she’s telling the truth. If she was lying her heartrate would change and it remained steady. Fuck me, I should be in the FBI.

“Alright, Buffy, Brittany, Brenda, whatever. Just get yourself together; we’re leaving here before that cow soddin’ gives birth. It’ll cause all sorts of comings and goings and I don’t want to be here when it does.”

“Where are we going?” She asks, like I know more than she does. I just have a few more senses and a half-formed plan of action.

“First, I need a bite to eat.” She opens her mouth to protest and I place my forefinger on her chin to close it with a plop. “No complaints, bitty Buffy, I eat them, or I eat you, which do you prefer?” I try to say it menacingly, but her perfect, pink, pout somehow made me want to eat her even more, so I take a deep, shuddering breath and let it out slowly.

She rolls her eyes, god, does she know how irritating that is? “Right then. When I’ve fed, we’re going to find where the girl who died comes from. I think she might’ve been a Vampire Slayer and she might have a Watcher who can help, that’s if he believes our story, doesn’t want to dust me and also believes that we didn’t off his Slayer.”

“Seems pretty risky.” She says thoughtfully and I’m glad she doesn’t question me further about what Slayers and Watchers are. She's pretty accepting of the situation, this little chit.

“If you’ve got a better plan, pet, then out with it. Personally, I don’t fancy throwing myself on the mercy of King, what’s his face, and being shut inside an iron maiden or some bollocks.” Without knowing what time we’re in, even my Oxbridge education is of no use to me now. What’s that rhyme I used to know about how to remember royal lineage? Ah, that’s it! Willie, Willie, Harry, Ste, Harry, Dick, John, Harry three, or some such rot.

“What’s an iron maiden?” She asks, eating an apple and wriggling.

“A torture device. What is wrong with you? You’re dancing about like you’ve got ants in your pants?”

“I need the bathroom.”

Great, bloody great. Mary Poppins part two.

“There’s a bucket in the corner.” I pick up a handful of hay and pass it to her. “For the, err.”

She eyes it and gets my meaning. “Oh.” She says, nodding and wrinkling her nose in distain. The bints not being kept in a fashion she’s used to. So-what? Suck it up like the rest of us, I’ve slept in a mineshaft before now, and do you hear me complaining?

I leave the barn before I have to deal with Buffy’s toiletry habits and head right to the pig pen, I need something to eat quickly and I don’t want to leave any footprints. I see the farmer and his family eating their evening meal by candlelight in the house, so I seize my chance. Hopping over a wooden fence I get a good hold on a gigantic saddleback pig and take my fill. I don’t kill it as I don’t want to leave any evidence, just take enough to keep me going. Its blood tastes foul anyway, and it smells so disgusting I hold my nose while I feed.

Her head pokes out through the barn doors and I wipe my mouth. I wouldn’t want to affect her delicate sensibilities by going back with blood on my mouth. Who am I kidding? Of course, I would, I just don’t want to meet any of the locals and out myself for what I am.

……………..

Spike seems to know where he’s going so I have no reason not to trust him. He could be taking me to the King who tortures people to death by playing Iron Maiden; I know the band had been around for a while but not that long; still, they aren’t really my thing, so I don’t have a clue.

Things are quiet around here, there are lots of small cottages with hay or some stuff on the roof, and almost all of them have crosses hung outside their doors, along with ropes of garlic, so either Count Dracula lives here somewhere, or they really, really like garlic here.

I tap Spike on the shoulder as he stops, his nose in the air again. What is it with him sniffing the air? He reminds me of a dog, trying to pick up a scent and I guess that’s what he’s doing. I have no idea what powers he possesses and, if I’m honest, I’m a little afraid of getting my head bitten off if I ask, literally. “Does Dracula live here?” I hiss in his ear.

“What?”

He turns and stares at me, his blue eyes more intense in the moonlit night as they regard me curiously. I feel weak at the knees and I’m not sure if I’m a tiny bit afraid of him or if I have a crush on him, he sure is pretty, but way too old for me. Would he even like me anyway? He's a vampire and I'm just a girl.

“No, Dracula does not live here, last I heard he was in New York, shame though, bugger still owes me twenty quid.”

I feel myself blushing under his gaze. This is the wrongest of the wrong, I have a boyfriend and this guy is a vampire, why would I even think he was gorgeous? “W-what’s a quid?” I ask, thinking it’s some British word for sheep, they have loads of weird words for stuff.

He just chuckles and cocks his head with a hint of a smile.

Before he answers, there’s an eruption of noise as some weirdly dressed men stagger drunkenly out of the town tavern, the sign above the door says The Three Cocks. See? British weirdness again.

I clutch Spike’s arm as we try to keep to the shadows and avoid them, but it’s too late, one stumbles over to us, takes his ‘thing’ out of his pants and begins to pee right next to us. I purse my lips as I see hot steam rise from the ground.

“Eww.” I whisper as I feel Spike turn and wrap me inside his coat, no doubt attempting to keep me hidden. Even I know young girls weren’t usually seen out after dark during these times, its just asking for trouble.

“Hey!” I hear over Spike’s shoulder. He sighs and drops his coat.

“What?” Spike says, turning and dropping his fangs, his face changing like they had back in the elevator. Personally, I would’ve tried to talk to the guy before pulling out the big guns but, hey, who am I?

Another guy totters over and once he looks at Spike’s face, he pisses his pants. Before I know it, there’s a rumpus as the two guys are picking up stones from the ground and launching them at us. One hits me right above the eyebrow and pain sears through my head like an electric shock. “Hey!” I call out, tempted to throw some stones of my own, right into their ugly, medieval faces.

Spike takes a step forward and they scatter, running off in opposite directions, but thankfully not back to the tavern. Spike's relieved too, he says they’d be all with the pitchforks and then we’ll never find this watcher guys house.

Clutching my head, I feel blood run down the side of my face and Spike turns suddenly, moving so fast it makes my head spin. I find my upper arms trapped in a steel-like grip and his vampire face is so close to mine that his nose is almost touching my own. He’s backed me up against a cottage and I feel panic rising in my chest, clutching my heart with its hand and squeezing the breath out of me. I’ve noticed I’ve been getting stronger recently, but I’m not as strong as Spike.

I can tell by the way he’s breathing, that he’s trying to fight his automatic urge to drink my blood, it must be singing to him and I know I’m in mortal danger. If he can’t get himself under control, I’m toast.

“Don’t.” Is all I can manage to squeak.

At that he closes his eyes tightly, his jaw clenched. It’s obvious there’s a battle going on behind those eyes, he’s like, fighting his base desire to eat the bleeding human. I get it, but I’m not going to give him the chance to fail. I kick him in the goodies and he’s falling to the floor like a lead weight. Huh, who’ve known vampires don’t like being kicked in the balls either? I must remember that, I’m sure it’ll come in handy someday.

Then his face is back to normal and I’m wiping blood from my own face with the hem of the dress.

“What the bloody hell did you do that for?” He splutters, his hands clutching his sensitive parts.

I walk over to him and hold a hand out to help him up. “Uh, because you so weren’t going to third base with my wound!” The thought was giving me the wiggin’s. “Now, I suggest we book it, or those guys will have half the village after us.”

I could tell he was pretty pissed, but he accepted my hand and moved us quickly behind some cottages. He was limping a little and I couldn’t help but feel an evil sense of pride at taking down the vampire so easily.

……

You know that feeling when you think your balls might explode and blow a hole the size of a pancake out of your body? Yep, that’s what it felt like when her tiny foot kicked me in the nads. I’m not sure what annoyed me more, her kicking me or the fact it hurt worse than any kick to the crown jewels by anyone, ever. Little bitch.

Alright, she did it for good reason. I’m a sodding master vampire, so I have better control than your normal vamp, but I got too close. This girl is my ticket out of here and it wouldn’t do to be eating her and getting stuck here forever, so yeah, I suppose the minx did the right thing. I still hate her for it. God, but she smelled so good…stop it! I mentally slap myself, the blood is gone, no more blood. The aroma and copper tang of dried bloody on her dress and the congealing blood of her wound makes my mouth water again. Get a grip, mate.

She’s frowning at me.

“Look, I…” I begin but she interrupts me at warp speed.

“Save it, just don’t think about eating me again or I’ll use this on you.” She mumbles without much conviction, drawing out the stake she obviously found in the dress of the fallen Slayer. I suppose that’s as close to being forgiven as I’m going to get. I’m not even sure why it feels important that she does forgive me. I suppose it’s because I can’t stand the idea of spending time with her if she’s going to whine and yammer on about me eating her the whole time.

The wind picks up and a few drops of rain hit the ground. I catch a weak scent on the breeze and recognise it as that of the dead Slayer, her home must be somewhere nearby, and I grab the girl by the hand, heading off in that direction.

After a half mile we stop to shelter under some nearby trees as the rain begins to take hold, and I shelter us both with my duster. Can’t have the bird catching a cold, there isn’t time to nurse her and I haven’t a bloody clue what medicine I’d get for her at this point in history, my concern has nothing to do with the girl herself, I hope she gets run over by a bus when we get back. For now, she trusts me to be near her.

There’s a click behind my ear and I wonder whether I’m going to last long enough to worry about it anymore.

……

My Slayer should’ve been back by now and I sit, flicking through some books, looking for a prophecy or at least some information on why the village is being attacked by so many vampyres. It seems the village sits on what they call ‘Os Inferos’ or a Hell Mouth. It seems strange that Warwick would be situated on such a thing. Of course, it’s been here forever, so why all these vampyres are suddenly upon us, I can’t tell.

Outside, it’s beginning to rain and I take my crossbow and open the door, leaving the warmth of the fire behind me. My monk’s robes offer little protection against the rain and I pull up the hood on my habit, moving out into the darkness.

Nowadays it’s reckless to leave the safety of one’s home at night, but I need to ensure Agnes is safe, the Watchers’ Council in Rome would not be happy with me if their new Slayer got hurt so early on in her training. It’s at times like this I wish I was back in the sanctity of the monastery, that I hadn’t been picked out to be the young girls watcher. She’s wilful and does not take direction well.

I hear a rustle in the bushes and turn my crossbow and attention to two figures huddling under a tree. I creep up quietly and point the tip of my crossbow to the temple of a man who has the most startling coloured hair I think I’ve ever witnessed. “State your purpose for being here!” I say with the courage of my convictions.

The man moves to face me, and I see he’s dressed in the most unusual outfit, but he has Agnes by his side and she doesn’t seem afraid.

“Ah, Agnes, you have returned. Whom, may I ask, is this man?” Slayer’s are young, virginial and very rarely in the company of a young man alone. Of course, Agnes lives with me, but I am a monk and she is safe under my tuition. The villagers believe her to be my maid and let us be.

Agnes’ eyes widen and all at once she’s stuttering strangely in a foreign accent. “I-I, w-we, we were just sheltering from the rain.”

The man speaks, “Look, mate, drop your weapon and we’ll be on our merry little way.”

Even his accent is unusual, English, but not from these parts. This makes me more suspicious.

“And where, pray tell, do you think you’re going with my, ahem, maid?” I ask, nearly slipping and calling her my slayer.

Agnes bites her lip in a way I’ve never seen her do before, she looks afraid, her usual confidence has left her, and this makes me wary of the man and his intensions.

“Err, well, it’s a long story, we’re looking for this Watcher geezer, we thought he’d be living round here somewhere.” The man with the almost white hair is saying as he scratches the top of his head.

I wonder if he has lice and take a step back, keeping my crossbow trained on him. I’m taken aback as I wonder how he knows of such things. “And what do you know of watchers, man?”

“I think you’re just going to have to trust me on that.” He says. Why on earth would I trust a man I’d just met?

“Look, the bird’s cold and wet, can’t you at least let us inside for a bit? Let her warm herself by the fire and what not?” He asks.

Birds? What on earth is he talking about, I look up to the tree and see nothing. This is becoming stranger by the second. “Agnes, please go inside, I shall join you shortly.”

……

I’m not sure what to do. On one hand, the inside sounds cosy and holding my hands up to the fire sounds mighty tempting, but then I don’t want to leave Spike out here with this monk guy. I know I can’t lose Spike as, if he’s right, we need each other to get home. But then monk guy doesn’t deserve to be eaten either and he might be of some help.

I walk towards the door and feel an intense rush bolt through my body as a group of vampire’s head right for me. Spike told me before that I’d know what to do and it seems he was right. I take the bottle of holy water from my pocket, roll off the cap and splash it in the face of the nearest one before I slide to the floor and take out the legs of another with a kick I never knew I could do. Then I remember the stake and don’t even think before I plunge it into the vampire’s chest. To my satisfaction, he disappears, poof, in a puff of dust.

“Buffy!” I hear Spike call out as he’s fighting off his own vampire and I feel another vampire grasp my neck from behind. Before I can try to escape, monk guy has let off his crossbow and the vamp’s toast. Blech! I have a mouthful of dust. I watch as the monk lets off another arrow and the next one evaporates, again leaving only dust floating to the ground.

Spike has a handle on the last vampire and twists his head off, the same thing happens to that vampire and I can’t help but think it’s cool as it dissipates.

The monk turns the crossbow back on Spike. “Why did you call my Slayer, Buffy?”

“Look, mate, I have some bad news for you. Your Slayer is dead.” Spike holds up his hands and the monk’s hand falters slightly. Yikes, it wouldn’t take more than a slip of the finger and Spike could be dust like the other vamps. I stand protectively between Spike and the Monk, sure the monk won’t stick me with a crossbow bolt, well, I hope. Spike continues to talk over my shoulder. “We came across Agnes when we arrived, some vamps had gotten to her, and she was overrun, we were too late to save her. I can show you where her body is, I stashed it to keep it safe from the critters. I know it sounds like a tall tale, but this is Buffy, and if I’m right, she’s a Slayer too, just she’s from the future. What year is it?” He asks the monk.

The monk’s shoulders slump and he suddenly look’s very tired, placing his thumb and forefinger on the bridge of his nose. I wonder if he’d been close to Agnes, he was obviously upset. “It’s fourteen-eighty-six.”

“Ah, Henry VII is on the throne, greedy bastard.”

Spike is pausing, his eyes on the monk as he moved his hand to cover his mouth.

“Buffy is from five hundred years in the future. Look, I told you it was a long story, the least you can do and invite us in, so we can tell it. Buffy needs to rest.”


	4. Chapter 4

[](https://imgur.com/8HjgSVO)

I know I’m frowning at them, but how else am I supposed to take all this in? People from the future? How did they get here and why or how would they travel back in time? Agnes, the poor girl, I loved her like a daughter and now she’s dead, replaced by a girl who’s possibly a charlatan, in the company of a vampyre dressed in clothing I’ve never seen the like of.

The vampyre was calling our King a bastard but the king had a father, Edmund Tudor, so whatever was he talking about? Whatever the vampyre thinks, he’d better keep it to himself, as people are hung, drawn and quartered for saying less, and I don’t suppose the undead care much for being ripped apart, either.

“I’ll let you in, but you, vampyre, will be shackled to the wall, I won’t take any chances.” I decide it’s far less dangerous to invite them, in than to have them loiter out here like sitting ducks, and god forbid the villagers overhear what we must discuss.

The girl, Buffy; the vampyre told me this was her name; is wandering around the room, touching herbs and running her fingers over dusty books. “Please do sit down, my dear.” I tell her as I search a wooden chest for a set of chains, an iron bolt and a hammer.

I find them and flick through a book I have open on the table, searching for the right spell to make them unbreakable. I mutter the incantation and walk to the door. “I presume, like any other vampyre, you require an invitation?”

“The name’s Spike.” He tells me as he nods, looking rather unperturbed by the situation we find ourselves in.

“Do come in, Spike.” I say the words I’ve never expected to say to a vampyre in my whole life. I’m holding up the chains and offers his wrists without complaint, allowing me to shackle him above Agnes’ small wooden cot in the corner of the room without protest. The poor, poor girl, I’m quite distraught over her death, but it’s better not to take chances and get myself killed too.

Once done, I pour some mead into a cup for Buffy and ladle her a bowl of the rabbit stew I made earlier. “Come, eat, and then we’ll talk more.” I tell her, pouring myself a large flagon of ale and dropping into the chair next to the fire. I lower my head so the tears filling my eyes can’t be seen, but my throat feels like I’m trying to choke down grit. Buffy is so much like Agnes, it’s almost like she’s still here, and that is making it all the harder to bear.

I note the vampyre watching Buffy with a soft look as she shovels the food into her mouth like she hasn’t eaten for days, and I can’t help but feel sorry for the girl. She’s the same age as my slayer, an age where any other girl would be married to a god-fearing man, not spending her days in the company of a monk or the undead. If this girl truly is a slayer, then she has a hard life ahead of her, and a short one at that. The slayer before Agnes only lasted two years, Agnes herself, only six months. I wonder how Buffy came to be in the company of this evil creature and why they seem to have developed such a bond.

Lost in my thoughts, I don’t hear her approach and stand before me. She holds an apple in her hand and is offering it to me. “I-I don’t have much, but in return for your kindness.” She says, holding out the piece of fruit.

I reach out, closing her fingers around the apple in her palm. “You need your strength, sweet girl, you may keep it.” At this point I wonder if it might be poisoned so I’d rather not risk it.

She smiles happily and takes a seat before me by the fire, biting into the apple. I look up, and the vampyre’s eyes are still on her, a strangely proud look on his face. If I had to say what the look was, I’d say he held a fondness for her I couldn’t understand. This is the strangest pairing I’ve ever seen in my time as a demonologist and Watcher.

“Tell me, Buffy, why are you here? And believe me, I shall know if you’re lying.” I try to be stern, I don’t want to be, but I must get to the truth.

She glances back to Spike, who shrugs his shoulders in response, his face unreadable. “We’ve come from the year nineteen-ninety-six. I’m just a normal girl who goes to school, has a mom and I was with my friends when Spike and I both used an elevator…”

She’s faltering as I must have looked confused, and of course I am.

“Uh, It’s, like, a metal box which takes you from the bottom of a building to the top.” She tells me.

I still don’t fully understand but allow her to continue.

The vampyre looked like he might say something but looked away, leaving the girl to speak for them both.

“We were trapped together, and we think someone has used magic to capture us and send us here for some reason.”

Now, magic, I do understand, along with the misuse of it for evil gain. “And you’re sure it wasn’t…” I nod towards Spike. I’d be surprised if the vampyre wasn’t behind it all, disgusting and wicked creature.

“No, at least I don’t think so. He’s stuck here too, and he’s taken care of me since we’ve been here. He told me he thought someone wanted us to be here together, like it was some sort of prophecy.”

The vampyre isn’t saying anything but is inspecting its blackened nails as she talked.

“And you,” I say sharply, hoping the tone of my voice is informing the vampyre I will take no nonsense from him. “You protected the girl you believe to be a young Slayer, even though she is born to kill your kind?”

“Look, she’s a baby Slayer, I don’t rightly know if she has her full power yet. I bloody hate mojo and would rather spend a few days making sure she gets through this, than losing her and ending up like dust in the wind because I couldn’t control myself for five, soddin’ minutes. I’m gonna get to the bottom of this, so I can punish the wanker who did this to us, err…I mean me.”

Strange, he’s saying he wants to punish whomever did this for them both, then had a quick turnaround and said only for himself. I find it bizarre that he would’ve developed any kind of friendship with the girl in the time since they’ve been here. I’ll definitely need to keep an eye on him, as if I wouldn’t anyway.

“That’s as far as we’ve got, eh, isn’t it, pet?” Spike says to Buffy as she wanders over to sit beside him. I can’t blame her, she doesn’t know me from Adam, and the demon has been good to her so far.

“Get some sleep. We’ll need to retrieve Agnes’ body before first light and you’ll need to show me where this ‘elevator’ contraption of yours is, that’s if I am to believe you.” He turned his eyes to Buffy, “You may take my cot in the other room, I will sleep in the chair by the fire.” I lift my crossbow onto my lap.

She lay down on Agnes’ cot beside the vampyre. “It’s OK, sir, I’ll sleep here, you take your own bed.”

The vampyre looks just as surprised as I do when the sleepy girl lays her head on his lap. I can scarcely believe my eyes when he pulls a blanket over her and tucks her in tightly.

I leave them, the wound of Agnes’ loss stabs at my chest and I find myself in need of the solace of prayer.

………………….

What the fuck is wrong with me? Why the hell am I playing nursemaid to a teenager again? And why does she want to sleep here on this bloody uncomfortable cot, with me, when she has the choice of sleeping in the Watcher’s bed? I can already feel the hay filled mattress poking through my jeans.

I won’t sleep now, it’s still night and I slept enough throughout the day to see me through. Buffy’s had her fill of a good, hot meal and is probably suffering the after effects, anyway sleeping at the wrong time had probably thrown her through a loop, no wonder the poor bint’s tired. Bugger! There I go again, being all Nana out of Peter Pan for the girl. I need to stop being a soppy git and get with the programme, the girl will die when we return back to our time, I’ll grind her bones to fashion myself a bloody mural, I’ll drink so deeply from her, she’ll be nothing but a Tutankhamun lookalike when I’ve finished, she’ll…I pause and watch her lashes flutter as she dreams. Oh, who am I kidding? I’ve gone soft in my old age. Being back with Dru will sort me out. I jolt as I realise I haven’t thought of her in hours, although, I bet the silly bitch hasn’t thought of me either. I know my Dru, ‘out of sight, out of mind’ is her mantra. Oh, she’ll punish me for being gone so long, but if she’s made it to safety, her dollies and tea set will keep her entertained until I return to the usual mess she’s made.

I close my eyes and doze, and a few hours later the groggy Watcher is murmuring his morning liturgy. I can hear him from the other room and I gently nudge Buffy. “Time to get up, pet.”

She groans and tries to turn over, muttering “Not now, mom.” It’s funny to be in the close company of humans, hearing them do their human things reminds me of being home with my mother when I was human too and begging not to get up for school.

The monk comes in and stokes the fire, throwing a handful of kindling upon the smouldering embers to get it going again. I just hope the git believes us, at least then we can get started on finding a way back home.

He hands me a cup of mead for Buffy along with some bread and cheese. She’ll be happy when she wakes properly, she likes cheese.

……………………………………………

I wake up even more tired, with my head on Spike’s lap. His cool hand feels soothing on the back of my neck, but I’m not sure how we got so close. I don’t know what was in that drink the Watcher monk gave me, but it made me all kinds of groggy.

“Bit hungover are you, love?” Spike is asking.

“I haven’t had any beer, I’m not old enough to get beer, why would I be hungover?” I sit cross legged on the cot and look at him. I know my hairs a mess and I don’t know what I’m going to do without a hairbrush or a change of clothes. I can’t keep wearing the death dress with the blood on the hem, it feels dirtier than ever now I’ve slept in it.

He laughs, and I punch him square in the arm, which makes him laugh all the harder.

“What?” I ask.

“Mead, it’s made by fermenting honey with the same things as they use for beer, another cup of that and you’d have been right sloshed.” He grinned, oblivious to my punch. God, he was annoying.

“Eww.” I mutter.

“Looks like you’ve got it again for breakfast.” He hoots in amusement as he passes me a plate with bread and cheese and another cup of the weird, mead beer.

“I’ll just have water.” I say cheerfully, ignoring him.

Then he begins chortling again, “Water! She wants water.”

I watch as Spike glances at the monk in amusement. I must be missing something and I’m beginning to think I’m the butt of some inside joke.

The monk piped up. “I’m afraid the water is polluted, dear. We cannot drink it in these parts. There is a freshwater spring a few miles hence but all I have is ale or mead for now.”

“No wonder the other Slayer was killed, Spike,” I whisper, and he raises an eyebrow, “She must’ve been drunker than a hoot owl.”

Spike chuckles, I like making him laugh, and almost reach out to touch the scar marring his eyebrow, but quickly change my mind. He lets me sleep close to him, but I think that might be overstepping.

………………………………………..

The vampyre took us right to the place of their arrival and I can feel the thick magic as soon as we arrive, its permeating the air, like a storm is brewing, but it’s a clear, crisp night and the moon and stars are all visible above, helping light the way. We can’t afford to be seen, so I haven’t brought a lantern.

I’m keeping watch as Spike heads into an enclave, its trampled ground and misplaced leaves distinguishing it from the rest of the clearing. Pulling back the branches, he reveals my dear Agnes sitting inside in her undergarments, her head lolling forwards.

“What is the meaning of this?” I find my dander rising as I see her left only in her undertunic, immodest and certainly not something I should be seeing.

“Look, Buffy had to wear something that wouldn’t have her sticking out like a sore thumb. Agnes’ gear was the only choice. Christ, you should see what the women wear in our time, that’d make your hair curl.” The filthy vampyre tells me.

He said it! He blasphemed about the lord almighty in the presence of one of his vessels! “How dare you take the lords name in vain, loathsome creature!” I want to kill him and take a stake from my belt, moving towards him.

“Now, now, Watcher,” He’s says as I move towards him, holding his palms up. “It’s nothing but a turn of phrase in our world.” He tells me calmly.

Their world? He speaks of their world while mine crashes down around me. Tells me that my religion is nothing but a turn of phrase in the future. I pull Agnes from the hollow, her milky dead eyes stare to the sky above as I drop to my knees. I loved her as one of my own, and now she’s gone, my Agnes, my Slayer, my charge.

“My name is Brother Geoffrey,” I say, my voice breaking as I direct my ire at the vile immortal, “and you may address me as so.” I no longer want his foolish nicknames directed at me.

Tears fill my eyes as I rock her in my arms. The poor girl is one of a long and never-ending line of Slayers who don’t stand a chance without the proper training. Circumstances pushed me to send her out when I knew she needed more training, at least another six-months, before she was truly ready.

After a time, my thoughts flit back to Buffy. If she is, in truth, a Slayer, she must be readied, she mustn’t suffer the same fate as Agnes. I know I will do everything I can to help her get back home to her time, but I’m determined to train her as much as I can before she leaves. This must not happen again, now or in the future. The girl should have her own Watcher, but where is he in all this?

The vampyre takes the spade I’ve brought with me and digs a grave with a speed which makes my head spin, while I carefully wrap my Slayer’s body in muslin. He waits for me to place her body within and then carefully refills the pit while I look on. I don’t suppose either Agnes or I ever expected a vampyre would do this for her or even that said vampyre would look sad as he does.

When I’ve finished saying the prayers of penitence over the grave, Buffy takes my arm, and pulls aside more bushes to reveal something I’ve never seen in all my days, nor thought I would. The strange box is somewhat like copper, or iron but it’s not, it’s what they called metal. There is an acrid smell of old vomit wafting up from inside as I reach down and touch the metal box. Now I know they’re telling the truth, this material is something I’ve never seen the like of before. When I peer down inside, I see a trapped vampyre jumping up and down as it scents me.

I take my crossbow and shoot it.

It’s dead and dusted, much as my heart feels now.

……………………………..

I sense dawn will be rising in an hour and urge the others to walk faster. I’ll need to hunt, even if it’s for some rabbits or other creatures. I don’t suppose Holy Joe will want me killing the locals, and they stink to high heaven anyway, if last night’s altercation was anything to go by, bleeding farmers.

A few rabbits or perhaps a fawn might make a good meal for them, a peace offering to the monk. I can’t see why he thinks I had a choice but to leave the dead Slayer in her undergarments, I could’ve left her splayed out for all and sundry to see. If I didn’t have to treat him well, he’d have made a right tasty meal then, such as he pissed me off. Try and do a bloke a favour and he throw’s it back in your face. If he knew who I was and what I’ve done to humankind before now, he’d think twice about shouting at me, the pillock, I’d have his cobblers for a key fob back home.

I follow the humans as they head back to the cottage and it doesn’t take long for their snores to permeate the room. The monk is tired and grieved, so doesn’t notice me carefully snatch the key from the pocket of his robe as he heads off to bed. I settle Buffy down and head out to hunt. The swell of her breast, the blood pumping dangerously close is harder to ignore this time as I haven’t eaten for almost a day.

It’s perilously close to dawn as I unlock my shackles, and Buffy murmurs in her sleep as I ease her from my lap. I see the monk has a longbow beside the door, along with a sheath holding at least ten arrows. I stop and pull it over my shoulder before leaving with barely a sound. 

Taking out the leather water carrier I’ve pinched from the Watcher’s home, I run, the two miles barely nothing at vampiric speed. The spring is above a meadow and an easy find. I fill it and head right back as the twilight of dawn hesitates just below the skyline.

Using every sense, I close my eyes, sniffing the air and listen for any prey in the vicinity. My lucks in as a wild boar enters the proximity, its nose to the ground as it seeks out truffles. I let the bow go immediately and it takes the pig down with a shot right between the eyes.

As I suckle the last of the blood, I take out my bowie knife to gut and skin it. Buffy will have bacon for breakfast and I’m almost excited to watch her response. What the fuck is wrong with me?

…………………………..

It’s late afternoon when I wake to the smell of pork cooking and think I must be dreaming. I have no idea what time it is, as I usually rise with at first light and go abed when the moon rises, that’s if…oh, yes, she’s gone, Agnes will never leave during dark again. I feel the pull of sadness once again, but I suppose I should find out how we have such a rare treat in the kitchen.

My belly grumbles and I’m astonished to find Spike cooking bacon, and bread cut into smooth sections in the pan.

“What is this?” I find myself asking jovially, not even questioning why there’s a vampyre freed and cooking breakfast at my stove. I’m not dead, even if the events of last evening made me feel the need to join my maker more than ever. I reach inside my pocket for the keys to his shackles and find them gone. Vampyres are slippery customers and I realise he easily stole it from me, I’d wager. I shake my head and thank the lord I’m still alive, this must be a sign.

“It’s yummy.” Buffy tells me, giving me a bright smile as I sit next to her at the table, which has been cleared of books. They are neatly stacked in the corner with obvious care, and I wonder if the girl or the vampyre was the one to do so.

“I’d wager you haven’t had a bacon sarnie before, Watcher?” Spike says, placing large slices of bacon in bread before me.

“No. I’ve never had such a thing, and I’ve asked you to call me Brother Geoffrey.” I remind him, but he carries on with his chore, ignoring me.

“You don’t know what you’re missing, I want more, and I don’t know what a sarnie is either.” Buffy grinned, placing her hand over mine, a kindly look on her face. I believe Buffy is a good girl, and I hope she remains so once she fully understands what her life will become.

It looks so tempting I bite into the bread and find tasty bacon at its centre, the juice from the fat making it delicious, and I all but devour it.

“You need to tell me how you cure the pork to keep it, mate, you have a whole other pig here,” Spike grinned, “Water?” he asks.

I nod, and watch Spike pour me a cup of clear water from my own water carrier. “How?” It’s clear the vampyre is trying to get on my good side. I’ll still be wary, but this is a treat too fine to turn down following the death of one of god’s wonderous creatures. The carcass should not be wasted, that would be sacrilege.

“Look, mate, I suppose you don’t like the fact I’m out of your chains. I killed a wild pig and visited the spring after to wash and to collect water. Eat up, mate, we’ve got work to do.”

I eat up, praying silently that he’s killed a wild boar and not one of the King’s prized pigs.

………………………………….

I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything so good as the bacon Spike made us and I take a helping of seconds when he offers.

His hair and clothes are damp, his shirt sticking to the muscles of his chest and I can’t help but take a peek, he’s totally gorgeous, and yes still way too old for me, of course, that doesn’t stop me from having eyes though, does it? The fact the guy’s an Adonis makes it harder to look away. I try not to think too long on how he got us the bacon or what he did with the animal before. The fact he thought about feeding me and Geoffrey was kind, not something I associate with vampires, even with my limited knowledge. In the Dracula movies they say that they die in running water, but Spike’s here, squeaky clean and all alive, well, undead but unharmed. I feel sort of glad about that as I’m getting used to having him around. He calls me Bit and lets me sleep on him. He’s comfier and smells so much better than anything else in this place. I make a mental note to study more in History when I get back, you never know when you might need that knowledge, and I’ve found out the hard way.

“Geoffrey, would it be OK if I borrow another of Agnes’ outfits? I’m dirty and the blood that’s dried into this dress must be driving Spike crazy.” I venture, hoping I’m not going to upset him by asking. He was pretty broken up over Agnes last night, but wearing a dead girls clean dress is better than wearing the one she died in. He nods to a chest in the corner near Agnes’ cot as he begins reading a huge book written in a language I can’t understand.

I pick out a plain brown dress and a set of the weird underwear the girls wear now, the best of a bad bunch. I bite my lip. “Uh, Spike, where is the spring?” I could really do with a bath as my hair feels dirty and full of bugs. Everything here is made from hay, the mattress, there’s straw on the stone floor, it’s probably a fire hazard.

He eyes me in that way, like he can read my mind, and sighs as he peeks through the small window. “Last of the light’s nearly gone, I’ll take you there. Better make it quick, mind, we’ve got things to do tonight and I don’t wanna be stuck here any longer than we should be. My lady’s waiting for me back home.”

My stomach drops at the reminder of home. I wonder if my parents are home now? Have they reported me missing? Perhaps my airhead friends might’ve called the cops when I didn’t come back at the mall? I wonder if time passes the same here? Time will tell, I chuckle to myself. Spike’s blue eyes are on me again, his face with a weird look as he cocks his head. He probably thinks I’m a total bonehead, laughing to myself like an idiot.

“I will read up on what Brother Thelonious has written.” Geoffrey is saying, “He’s the only specialist we have, and his writings are several decades old, but he might give us some clue as to what is happening here. He has learned how to bind demons into books and is a most clever man. Go to your ablutions, Buffy, we’ll talk more on your return.” He says, returning to his books.

I note how happy the monk is while reading before Spike tuts and ushers me out of the door.

…………………………………

I take her to the spring on the other side of the dense forest and, luckily, I’m still full of the kill early this morning so there’s no need for me to hunt. The hammering hearts of tiny, curious creatures don’t bother me so much this time, and I stride along purposefully as Buffy lags, absently running her fingers through wild flowers in the twilight, with a fanciful look on her face.

I don’t suppose a city girl like her gets out into the country very often, must be a novelty for her. I hear her humming dreamily and I hate to say it, but there’s a vamp some way behind. He’s picked up her scent, I’d say, and is slowly catching up.

“Did you bring your stake?” I ask casually.

She seems startled by my voice, “Huh?” She says.

“I think you need to wash out your ears, pet. I said, did you bring a stake?”

“Uh, I think so?” She begins rooting through the pockets of her dress, finally finding it and holding it out to show him with a triumphant grin on her face.

“Never mind.” I say as the vamp flies, full throttle, into the clearing. I jump it and take his head off cleanly. Standing and brushing my coat down I’m annoyed with her again. Why does she make me so pissing furious? “This isn’t the time to be a dolly daydream, you silly mare, that vamps been following us for at least the last half mile. Didn’t you sense it?”

She looks flustered, “I didn’t know…. sometimes I think I can feel something weird near me, it makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, but then you do that too, so I’m not sure if it’s just you.”

I sigh, I suppose that figures, but the bird needs to learn the difference before she finds herself exsanguinated. “We’ll need to work on that then. Can’t have vamps sneaking up and taking a bite out of you, can we?”

Buffy looks so young sometimes, I almost feel sorry for her. All this is a lot for a girl of her age to take in, on top of finding out she’s a Slayer. I decide to make sure she works on her slayer senses with the Watcher as soon as possible. I’ll talk to him when we get back.

We arrive at the pool and she look’s first at the water and then back at me. Oh, right. She’s waiting for me to turn my back. Hadn’t planned on watching, I just didn’t think.

I walk off to the edge of the clearing and sit on a rock with my back to her.

There’s a rustle as she takes off her clothes and she let out a yip as she slides into the cold water. It’s not exactly summer here, but it’s not freezing. I suppose I could get some wood together, make a fire she can stand by while she gets dressed. At least her hair might dry off quicker, then she’s less likely to get sick.

I set about collecting twigs, all the while trying to keep my back to her. She’s silent now, but I can hear her heartbeat slow, she’s probably floating. I remember the feel of the water against my skin, and don’t think I’ve had such a peaceful bath in many a year.

“Spike?” She calls over, “Can you pass me my dress?”

Bloody hell, that’s all I need. Blinking rapidly, the urge to drain her passes quickly due to still being full, from the hunt.

“Uh, yeah.” I say, heading over to her with my eyes closed, and trying not to fall flat on my face, her dress fisted in one hand.

I can feel the vibrations of her shivering skin as I get to her and pass her the garment.

“I-I’m s-so cold.” She complains as she wriggles into her dress and I find myself automatically removing my duster for her.

She takes it from my hand with a sweet thank you and I turn and walk back to the fire. “Get over here beside the fire before you catch your death.” I tell her, my voice huskier than I’d like.

Sitting on a log beside the fire, she’s twisting her hair and shaking the water from it. “It’s really tangled.” She complains, and I sigh melodramatically, Mary Poppins part two, here I come. I move behind her, running my fingers gently through her locks and ridding them of the knots, like I’ve done for Dru a million times. It’s slightly more difficult without a comb.

She’s sighing with pleasure and being in such close proximity to her throbbing jugular is making me antsy. I finish up quickly and move away.

“Spike?” She says, rubbing her hands up and down her upper arms, “Do you think we’ll ever find our way home?”

I feel for her at that moment. This is no picnic for me, but I’m aware that its likely this will all come to end at some point, one way or another. Either we’ll die here, or we’ll find a way. I don’t want to make her any more skittish than she already is, so I lie. “The Watcher will find a way. I don’t suppose he wants us here anymore than we want to be here.” That seems to satisfy her, and I push some dirt over the fire before we start the walk back to the cottage.

As we arrive, I scent something unusual and realise someone has been here in our absence. Doesn’t smell supernatural so hopefully old Giles has just had a visitor. I reach out and still Buffy with my hand, while I listen for any new heartbeats. Hearing none, we head inside.


	5. Chapter 5

[](https://imgur.com/8HjgSVO)

As soon as Buffy and Spike leave there’s a knock at the door and I wonder whether they’ve forgotten something. I open the door to find a messenger outside. I thank him for his message and open the parchment to find an invitation to meet with the Abbot, immediately; he also requests the presence of Agnes and my stomach drops. However, can I pass Buffy off as Agnes? She doesn’t even speak with the same accent as my poor, deceased, slayer.

The two arrive back soon after, Buffy wearing Spike’s coat which would be very unseemly, should she be seen by a villager, but then I suppose her bathing in his presence was already bad enough. I head for Agnes’ chest and pull out her travel cloak, packing up some bread and the last of the water in a bundle. “We need to leave now; the Abbot is expecting us.”

“Now, mate, I don’t think this is wise, the girl knows nothing of this world.” Spike says, his eyes show concern at first, then swiftly become dark and unyielding. He steps towards me.

I feel the testosterone in the room begin to rise, and for me that’s an unnatural occurrence. I’ve been trained to be meek and respectful of all god’s creatures, and I pray to be good every day, but having another male under my roof seems to have brought out the worst in me. I understand that Spike feels he and the girl need to remain together, but if we cannot present ourselves as Agnes and I would, we could be in danger of being carted off as witches and burned at the stake as heretic’s. The vampyre has some knowledge of our times, I’ll grant him that, but he may not realise The Tribunal of the Holy Office of the Inquisition, commonly known as the Spanish Inquisition, have been torturing anyone who dares religious dissent. The King of England holds these practices in high esteem and I have had news that any realm practicing Catholicism can call upon these Inquisitors in a time of need. I, for one, do not want to be tortured to death for leaving god’s path, and what I’m doing with these two could never be explained as anything other than witchcraft. The Council is a secret society within the church, and I know the Pope would never allow it to be revealed, and nor would I.

I can’t begin to fathom how Buffy looks like Agnes. Of course, she may be one of a family line, her features carried forth into the future. But Spike may rest assured that I will not risk my position any further to protect one of the undead creatures I am bound to obliterate. Buffy must learn not to rely so heavily on him too. If she is truly a Slayer in training, then she is bound to the same rules I am.

I make a mental note to discuss this further with Spike. It irritates me that he is the only one of the two who knows anything about Slayers, and it unsettles me when I wonder why he does.

“Your presence won’t be required, Spike, I cannot take an unholy creature into the sanctity of the monastery.”

“Pfft!” He says, pawing the air with his hand, “If you think I’m letting you take Buffy there alone and out of my sight, you must be completely carrot top.”

There he goes with the weird sayings, I have no idea why he’s talking about carrots. “We must go, to not go would arouse suspicion which we can ill afford at the moment.”

“Don’t I get a say in this?” Buffy pipes up.

“No, you bloody well don’t” Spike snaps at her, “I won’t have you traipsing around this village after dark without me, end of story!”

The girl shrugs off Spike’s anger without batting an eyelid, she’s obviously used to it by now, cranky vampyre that he appears to be.

“Brother Geoffrey? Can’t we bring Spike to the gates of the monastery? Surely that would be OK? I must agree with Spike, we came as a package, without knowing what keeps us here, I don’t know if we should be separated. I’m no airhead to be ordered around by either of you.”

Spike scowls at her, and I find I must agree with his ire. The girl has spirit, but she’s also out of her depth, and using such frivolous and futurist terms could easily have her noticed as unusual, which could be disastrous for us all. I could be excommunicated at the very least, for communing with the vampyre at all, let alone bringing him to the gates of the house of god. I give in, I know she’ll be stubborn if I don’t, and even the vampyre knows it. “Very well, but only to the gates, and he must not be seen. And, Buffy, you must speak proper English from now on. I do not know what an airhead is, but I know using a term like that could kill us all.”

She looks contrite enough, as she looks to the floor.

“I’ll be like the Scarlett Pimpernel.” Spike tells me with a smirk. What that means I have no idea. I just take it he’ll be a good vampyre, if there is such thing.

…

We make it to the monastery before the sun rises and Spike finds himself a dark cave at the edge of the woods outside town in which to hide and await our return.

The Prior welcomes us and we are fed and watered in a side room away from the monks. I hear them undertaking their morning prayer in the distance and wish I could join them and forget all this strangeness. It wouldn’t do for them to come into contact with a woman, even if it is a slip of a girl. She makes a face at the basic porridge we are given, along with the cup of wine. I ignore her, it isn’t the meal we’d had the previous day, but it is what I am used to, and I eat heartily.

The Abbot joins us when we finish our repast and looks Buffy up and down with distain. The elderly man has never liked the fact I was given the position of supervisor to a vampire slayer in his diocese, and disliked Agnes even more as he considers her a fallen woman, as he never understood her calling, nor mine, if I were honest.

“You must be wondering why you have been summoned, Brother Geoffrey?” The Abbott asks sharply.

“I must say, Father Abbott, it did come as a surprise.” I say, as sedately as possible.

“Hmm, it seems our vampyre problem is getting out of control. The more your slayer fights off, the more come. The town is overrun by the creatures, why, only yonder night, two men reported one right outside the tavern with a young girl in his arms. The description of whom, sounded extremely like Agnes.”

Oh dear, what am I to say? If I lie to my superior, not only am I in breach of my holy orders, but it is a sin against god. If I don’t lie, Buffy will be put to death as a heretic, likely burned at the stake. I apologise to god inside my head before I say, “That cannot be so, Father, she has not left my side this past week.”

He seems placated. “I have your assurances that the population of ungodly creatures will diminish immediately? I can send a message to the Council for more assistance if you are unable to manage the situation?”

“That will be unnecessary, Father Abbott, Agnes and I are working on the predicament. If you’ll allow us to get on our way, we can get back to work.”

“Very well, Brother Geoffrey, see that you do.” The Abbott finishes his tea and leaves the room, barely looking at Buffy. I sigh with relief, at least he didn’t ask her to talk.

……………….

The monk leaves me at the mouth of the cave as he heads off with Buffy to meet the Abbott and I sit in the darkness, as far forward as I dare; the soles of my boots burning in the sun as I keep a close  eye on the road.

I feel like I may as well have a kip, but as I settle down and pull my duster around me, I hear the distant clatter of rocks falling at the back of the cave. It’s probably a bear, a creature I think still existed in England around these times, and one I’m not particularly fond of as they give me a run for my money and have the capacity to bite off my head, thus ending my undead existence. I’d better check, as it wouldn’t do to be woken by a giant bear roaring its annoyance in my ear.

Moving further back, I see the front of the cave is just a minute part of a massive system and I hear voices echoing from at least a mile away. It doesn’t strike me as a place being used for mining iron or copper, so I tread carefully as I follow a well-worn path down deeper inside.

Its pitch black for a time, and even I can’t see much. I manage to avoid the craggy rocks and sharp, ragged sways as I head deeper into the depths of the cave.

Then there is firelight. I see shadows littering the stone inside a cavern the size of an auditorium. I’m on a small cliff above and looking down, and I see vamps, hundreds of them, holding court to an elder vamp.

I can smell his age from here on the ledge. He reeks of power, death and magic surround him, the scent of familiar magic I can’t place. He must be at least a few hundred years old, if not older. All at once I wonder if this is the bastard whose been playing with us and I have to bite my tongue to stop myself running down there like a pig to the slaughter, which I would undoubtedly be. I’m a great fighter but even I don’t stand a chance against that many vamps, even a fully trained Slayer would be overrun.

The lower level has a litany of candelabra, some soft furnishings and the elder vamp sits on a throne made of human bones, his leg slung over the armrest as he sips from a goblet made from a human skull. He’s wearing a black doublet, and tights with a thick leather belt, along with a red cloak. Hmm, a bit twee, pansy arsed wanker, still, I don’t suppose he knows how ridiculously quaint he is in this garb.

I listen in for a while and work out the head poncho’s name is Lothos. His minions simper and beg at his feet for his attention.

“Why has the new Slayer not been captured? It shouldn’t take more than one attempt to kill an inexperienced Slayer, she does not yet truly understand her powers.” The Lothos guy booms, his voice causing an obvious ripple of fear to run through the crowd of vamps before him.

A brave vamp steps forward and bows his head. “Sire, she lives, the minions we sent have been unable to kill her, she is too strong.”

“How am I to open the mouth of hell with you cretins failing at every turn? Must I do the job myself? You, you and you!” He points to three vamps, “Bring the Slayer to me so that I might render her blood to the earth. It is the only thing standing between me and the opening of the hell mouth. If you fail in this task, do not return to me, or I will stake you to the ground to await sunrise. Do you understand?”

The vamps run off like fleeing rats. Lothos clicks his fingers and calls out for blood and a struggling farm hand is brought to him, he captures the strong lads face and wiggles his fingers a bit, causing the boy to collapse to his knees before he bites into his neck. The blokes got thrall, who’ve thought it? He hadn’t met many vamps with the gift, apart from Dru.

I take that as my que to head back out, my fangs are itching, and I can almost taste the blood of the farm boy in my own throat. Try as I might, this living on pig’s swill is driving me crazy and I can’t wait to get back to reality for some proper grub.

…………………………………………

We’re heading back in full daylight to the cave where Spike is safely tucked away and I’m mulling over the conversation with the Abbott.

“Do you have any idea what the cause of all this vampire activity is?” I ask Brother Geoffrey. If I am a Slayer, I want to make it sound like I know what I’m talking about, even if I don’t.

“This has been happening for weeks, dear. Agnes fought bravely to rid the town of them, but then they kept coming and…” He pauses, his face ashen, “You know how that ended. I’ve searched and searched the sacred texts and I’ve found nothing.” He says sadly. I feel for him. I didn’t know Agnes, but it must be hard for him with me here, looking all like the real Slayer.

“We must research harder, there has to be something.” I say as we draw up to the entrance to the cave. I’m trying to sound more like Brother Geoffrey, and not like the silly girl from the Valley who’d get us both killed. I miss my mom. My parents aren’t the best at caring about what I do, but at least I don’t have to worry about anything other than school and my friends at home. I never have to worry about where my food comes from, or whether I can drink water or mountain dew, god, the only beer I worry about is what I can score for a party. I feel tears prickling my eyelids, but then I feel relief wash over me as I see Spike huddled just within the line of sunlight, just where we left him.

“We need to go, now, it’s not safe for you here.” He says urgently as we reach him.

I roll my eyes, “Just in case you hadn’t noticed, its full daylight, how are you going to get back without being all burny?” Shit, all burned up? Burned to a crisp? Crap! No, no, no! None of that is English!

“Our friend the monk here, will need to swap clothes with me.” He informs us, looking right at Geoffrey.

Brother Geoffrey splutters, “No! I don’t believe I will be lending my holy robes to the undead.”

“Then we’ll stay here and get eaten by the few hundred vamps who are holed up in that cave back there. Fancy being exsanguinated instead?” Spike’s serious, there’s no sign that he’s kidding.

I let out squeak and Brother Geoffrey stares at me, then to Spike and then back to the cave. “Ahem, Buffy could you turn around.” He requests, and I do as he asks, I don’t want to see his goodies, bleck. Spike on the other hand? No! Bad Buffy, get your mind out of the boy’s locker room. Hmm, Spike in the shower does sound quite yummy though…

Both swap clothing and Spike leaves the cavern, the hood of the monk’s robe pulled tightly over his face. He isn’t wearing the wooden cross around his neck, no need to wonder why.

Brother Giles looks strange in Spike’s clothes, with his small, soft leather and wood shoes on his feet - clearly Spike would not relinquish his boots – along with his bowl cut hair. I wondered what possesses monks to do that to their hair? It isn’t very cool at all.

Spike’s wriggling and complaining, “Bloody hell, Watcher, what the hell is this made of? Barbed sodding wire?”

“It is an outfit made of course material, holy vessels are not allowed luxury, else what would be the point in becoming one? I may as well have stayed at home and taken up my baronetcy. And please do not mention sodomy in my presence, vampyre, I do not wish to think of such things.”

Their sniping is beginning to wear on my nerves. I’m tired and I’ve had to eat porridge that tasted like it was made from shoe leather.

“Hmm.” Spike side eyed the monk and said nothing further about the borrowed robe. “One of the Aristocracy, are we? Thought you sounded too posh for a monk.”

“Spike, do be quiet, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I damn well do; the aristocracy are the root of the…”

“Will you two shut up!” I yell, “There are better things to worry about than who is what from where, or who was sodding who! Jeeze, get a grip!” I purse my lips to stop me from smiling as they both apologise and look contrite.

“Tell me what you found in the cave,” I ask Spike. We’re walking through the village now and getting some odd looks as people sell their wares. I see bread, eggs, and tied up animals, it must be market day. A goose nibbles at the hem of my dress as we pass. I tug it back, I always hated geese and I wish I could kick it away, but that would draw attention.

Spike looks both ways and we huddle together. “Vamps, and lots of them. There was this guy in charge, he wants the Sla…”

“Oh, Brother, we are blessed by your presence here in town on this fine day.” An elderly woman, grasps Spike’s hand and kneels to kiss it. He snatches it back with a look of terror on his face. It’s unexpected but I need to think fast or the whole town will be in an uproar. Geoffrey slinks away so he can’t be seen by those who might identify him.

“Uh, madam, Brother, um, is sick today, you mustn’t get too close.” I am just brilliant, I mean who else could’ve come up with that so quickly in the circumstances?

“The plague! The lord’s vessel has the plague!” She wails.

What the frick? This is so the opposite of what I needed to happen here. I was just trying to stop her from noticing Spike’s cold skin.

“Nu-uh, he doesn’t have the plague, just a touch of Leprosy.” I grin, proud that I could think of some old disease to stop everyone panicking about the plague.

“Leprosy, the monk has Leprosy, oh, lord help us!” The old woman scrabbled away as fast as she could, as others gasped and shunned her, some poking her away with sticks. Shit!

“I’m sorry!” I yell as I watch people began to scream and run, picking up their wares and crying children. Dogs were barking and biting people in the chaos, and soon the town square was empty.

“Well done, Buffy.” Brother Geoffrey says sarcastically, shaking his head and rubbing the bridge of his nose. I notice he does that when he’s stressed out. “Now the village thinks we have Leprosy. The Kings guard will be with us by tomorrow to take us away to a Leper community, or put us to death, whatever the king decides.”

“I didn’t know.” I feel my lower lip wobble and I look to Spike, who’s laughing so hard he looks like he might have an aneurysm, if he was alive that is.

“In future, leave the talking to me.” Brother Geoffrey informs me furiously.

……………………..

We arrive back at the cottage; my skin is sizzling slightly, but not too bad considering the cassock thing I was wearing wasn’t very thick. I can’t wait to get out of the itchy robe, it’s like wearing a horsehair blanket.

Buffy has caused the almightiest ruckus in town and I can’t be exasperated; the poor chits been crying most of the way home. At least if she’d left it at the plague we might’ve been left alone, as it is, Giles is madder than hell.

The brother begins packing up his books. “Take what you can carry, we’ll need to sleep in the forest to escape the Kings Guard. Take supplies and blankets, plus the lantern if I’m to read and research.” He informs us, he’s glowering, and I don’t blame him. Buffy’s looking as sorry as she can be, but of course the blokes gonna be angry, they’re not used to roughing it like me, I can make a home anywhere, have done, in fact.

We get busy and head out as dark peeks over the horizon. Buffy is wary, she seems to have taken heed of what I said to her about listening out for vamps and being prepared. Like this we’re going to be sitting ducks for them, so I bloody hope she gets some savvy from somewhere.

We reach a clearing near a stream and I set down my pack, if you can call it that, it’s just a blanket filled with stuff I slung over my shoulder.

I found some silver bells and twine at the monk’s place and I set about winding the string at low level around the camp to create a warning system. Brother Geoffrey watches me and nods encouragingly, he even seems impressed.

Buffy’s collecting firewood and placing large lumps in a huge wigwam shape on the ground. I head over to her, “Have you built a fire before?” I ask, taking a huge, heavy log from her hand and placing it beside us. She’s stronger than any young woman I’ve met, so I guess her Slayer powers are coming in, not that I’m surprised. She shakes her head and her lip begins to wobble again, poor cow, she’s still distraught, and to think, they thought I was the one who’d cause trouble for them. The brother didn’t yell at her, but he hasn’t spoken to her since the market place and she knows she’s in deep shit.

I begin to show her, step by step, how to lay the fire and make up the kindling. I stop short of showing her how to make a hand drill with sticks, as I have my lighter. She’s on her knees beside me and I’m astonished as she lays her head on my shoulder. Woah, nelly! She’s getting too close; doesn’t she know I plan to kill her when we get home? I can’t help but revel in the warmth that floods from her head into my shoulder and find myself almost dropping a kiss to her head. I stand up quickly, brushing off my hands and move to unpack the leftover pork we salted yesterday. I make a spit with a thick branch and show her how to turn it and keep it from burning. A Slayer should know how to take care of herself in the wilderness, might come in handy one day.

I walk over to the monk, who’s organising his books by candlelight. “Silly bint didn’t mean anything by it, she’s young, hasn’t seen much of the world. Those diseases are very uncommon in our time.”

The monk sighs, “That’s good to hear. I’ve seen so much death during in my time on this earth, but yet it keeps coming, first with plague and pestilence, now with the supernatural. It’s exhausting.”

I upend a log and sit. “I need to finish telling you what I saw back at the cave. Hundreds of vamps, all controlled by this guy called Lothos, have you heard of the vamp?”

“No, but it gives me something to look for. Did you find out any more?”

“Look, I don’t want Buffy to know, don’t wanna scare the girl, but they plan to render Slayers blood to the hell mouth, think they were out to get Agnes when we dusted them. Does that mean anything to you?”

“Not a thing.” The monk says sadly, glancing at Buffy regretfully as she wipes her eyes once more, blubbing again.

“They’ve failed once, they didn’t get Agnes back to this Lothos, I’m not even sure he knows she’s dead as we dusted the rest of the vamps that could’ve borne witness to her death. As far as they’re concerned, Buffy is the Slayer and for that alone she’s in mortal danger, untrained as she is.”

The monk takes hold of the wooden cross hanging about his neck and whispers some prayer to himself.

“Now then, let’s make some soup and get started on these books.” I say, hoping to pull the brother out of his lamentation.

…………….

Why do I feel like such an idiot? I never do the right thing and I can’t look after myself. I’m relying on Spike to help me and I’m lucky he is. He tells me he’s an evil master vampire but then he cares for me and I don’t know which way is up. Brother Geoffrey is fifty shades of mad with me, and I don’t know how to tell him I’m sorry.

I didn’t mean to cause us to have to leave the cottage, but at least it’s a nice warm night and the meat smells delicious as it cooks on the weird thing Spike calls a spit. I sort of feel like a girl scout as I continue to turn it and watch the soup boil as it hangs over the fire, its herby scent rising into the air along with the sparks from the fire. For a vampire who doesn’t eat, Spike sure knows how to cook. I feel worse as the only thing I’ve ever cooked is a TV meal and popcorn, and I feel like I’m a burden on them both.

I try think of it as an adventure and this time I make sure I listen out for vamps. Spike’s early warning system is amazing, I would never have thought of something like that, and I wonder what I’d need to learn to be this Slayer they think I am.

We eat, and Brother Geoffrey seems happier, he even smiles at me before he goes about reading his book while leaning against a log, the lantern perched next to his head.

Spike is using his knife to whittle something, seeming like he has ants in his pants and eventually stands.

“Seems as good a time as any to start your training.” He says, pulling me up by the hand and passing me the blunt piece of wood he’s just made. It looks a little like Agnes’ stake I have in my pocket.

I stare at it and then back to him.

“Seems best not to put the real thing in your hands, just in case, pet.” He winks and goes straight to punch me. I block him automatically, if not very gracefully. It hurts a little, but I shake it off. “Good start, now you punch me.”

I send a flurry of punches in his direction, and he pushes each one away with ease, like he’s some martial arts master from Enter the Dragon, I watched it once with my dad, it was a pretty old movie. I’m trying my hardest and Spike just looks relaxed, sighing as I try.

“It’s not about the punches or how hard someone can land them, love, it’s about seeing the punches before they come your way. Getting a feel for the way the person fights, spotting any mistakes they make that you can use to your advantage. Like you, you drop your shoulder on the right, makes it right easy to see where you’re going.”

“I do not!” I say. Do I? I’m not even sure what he means, but I know I don’t do it!

“You do.” Says Brother Geoffrey, who still has the book open on his lap, but has paused to watch.

“I don’t know how not to.” I say, feeling a bit miffed that I can’t punch straight.

Brother Geoffrey lays his book aside and stands to adjust my posture. “Hold your shoulder there, don’t do anything other than punch forward, aim for Spike’s face.”

“Ha, ha, Watcher, very…Ooof! Oh, bloody hell!” Spike hollers as I punch him square in the nose. Spike blinks back tears and I feel a rush of pride, a bit like when I kicked him in the balls.

“Well done, Buffy.” The brother says, clapping and laughing as he heads back to his place.

Spike and I spar; or that’s what he calls it; for the next hour and I feel like I’ve really learned something when we eventually finish, I think I could be the next Mike Tyson.

“Time for some shut eye, goldilocks, we’ll train more in the morning.” He dusts himself off and makes his bed up across from mine under a makeshift shelter he made using blankets, tree branches and string. He’s lying on his side and staring at the fire, his blue eyes glittering like sapphire.

I don’t want to be alone, I’ve got kind of used to sleeping with Spike close, so I pick up my blanket and lay next to him, snuggling my head in his armpit and putting my arm over his chest. I feel safer that way and fall asleep right away.

…………………………………….

I don’t know what to make of the Slayer and Vampyre asleep in each other’s arms over there. I know it’s incredibly wrong, but he cares for her somehow, and she for him. I don’t know what I’d have done without the strangest vampyre I’ve ever met these past days. My mind hasn’t been on the job after losing dearest Agnes and he’s fed and cared for Buffy, even began training her which was an odd experience. He seems to know moves I’ve never dreamed of, and strange forms of martial arts I have only seen in scarce books from China. Still, regardless of how helpful he is, I still need to keep my guard up. Vampyres are notorious confidence tricksters and I won’t fall for it, I promise myself that.

The ground is hard and unyielding, and I’ve had an unsatisfying sleep. It’s still early and I think I’ve only slept for a few hours as the sun is lighting up the dewy grass and the birds are beginning their day, twittering as they no doubt discuss what that day will bring.

I’ll do some more research now its light and perhaps take a nap later if all is well. The vampyre is nocturnal so I daresay we’ll fall in with his rhythms until we can get to a permanent place of safety. I’m between a rock and a hard place, I can’t go to the Council with a vampyre in tow, so I suppose the only option is to keep looking for the answers.

There is something interesting in an ancient text, it prophesises an elder vampyre feeding the blood of Slayers to the hell mouth to bring forth an apocalypse. My mouth runs dry, only good lord should decide when and where an apocalypse occurs, not some foul, undead creature. I run my finger back over the word ‘Slayers’, this means in the plural, not the singular. Are they killing off Slayers to ensure another will rise? How do they know where the next Slayer will rise? And where? Perhaps even when? Even I know the next one could rise anywhere in the world and it is the Council’s job to find her, even if she lives in a savage country.

I know of a witch who lives a few miles from here, I think we’ll travel east to her cottage and see if she can discover what magics were used to bring Buffy and Spike here, then we’ll have some idea what we’re dealing with.


	6. Chapter 6

[](https://imgur.com/8HjgSVO)

I wake with Buffy tucked under my arm like the chit belongs there. I’m not sure how we got from terrified mortal enemies in an elevator (Yes, I admit I was shitting myself too) to sleeping like two peas in a pod and I — even though I’m not sure about all this — wouldn’t change it for the world. The girl relies on me and she took to her training right well, tough little cookie she is. I shouldn’t let her get too attached to me but while we’re here, I can’t see any shame in it if it gets her through this ordeal. I can’t stand to see her upset or uncomfortable, so shoot me, I was brought up a proper Victorian gentleman, those traits must come out occasionally, however much I try to suppress them.

She sighs in her sleep, rolling over and away from me, so I sit and rub my face, the sun is low in the sky and I guess it’s around four PM. Not long till I can take my leave and do a little hunting. The pork we had is all well and good, but I want to see if I can get some wild vegetables, maybe some of that chicken of the woods fungus that grows on trees here in England, makes for a right tasty meal I’ve read. In one hundred years you find you read a lot about crap you don’t think you’ll ever need. Looks like that book on wild mushrooms might just be of use.

The Watcher is busy at his books and looks up as I sit on the log beside him.

“Ah, I’m glad you’re awake, I think I’ve found something. We need to pack up camp at dark and head to the home of a witch I know, she’ll be able to read your aura’s and see what she can do to help.”

“Don’t know, mate, I’m not a fan of magic.”

“So, you’ve told me many times, Spike, but this woman is the real thing, a white witch with a gentle nature. She lives off the land, and she is famed for being able to read people’s futures. I hope in your case she’ll try to do the opposite and tell us who did this to you.”

I find myself agreeing, the longer we hang around camping in the woods, the less likely things will change, and this is not a sodding camping holiday.

………………………….

I slept surprisingly well considering it was my only time camping outdoors. I thought I’d be terrified by every noise but sleeping next to Spike seems to help me drown out all the weird noises and dampen down my fears.

Spike’s already up, moving around the shaded parts of the camp as the sun has gone and been replaced by a moody grey sky, it looks like it’s going to rain and that is not of the good.

There’s time for a little training with Geoffrey, who shows me how to use his crossbow on a target he’s fashioned on a tree. I hit it almost every time, and he seems pleased with me today, and much less grumpy about the situation I put us in yesterday. You know, it wasn’t my fault I don’t know about old diseases, and I hope he knows that, I am American after all.

I’ve been told were going to visit a witch once we’ve packed up camp and I’m apprehensive, as I always think of witches as warty old hags, a bit like in Hocus Pocus. Yikes! She might turn me into a black cat and I’ll be trapped here for eternity. Don’t be stupid Buffy, I tell myself, Geoffrey and Spike wouldn’t allow that. I just hope Geoffrey knows what he’s doing. It seems a little strange that a monk would know a witch, but then he’s a pretty surprising guy.

“If you’re set, I think we better get moving before we all get drenched.” Spike tells us, slinging a makeshift pack over his shoulder, and I follow, hauling my own stuff wrapped in a blanket. It’s strange, I seem to be able to carry much more now, without even trying, I feel like some champion bodybuilder, no, eww, I hate all those giant muscles and fake tan, yuck. I prefer a guy who’s well built, compact, you know, like…oh. I try to push the thought of Spike’s hard body to the back of my mind and concentrate on the trail before us. It’s a path of sorts but it doesn’t look like it gets much use and the forest becomes denser the further we trek.

It’s started to rain, and I pull my cloak over my head, for all the help it is, watching Spike do the same with his coat. Geoffrey has had his hood up the whole time and he looks tired, I guess he’s much older, so he probably doesn’t take to sleeping in the outdoors like Spike and me. I drop back and take some of his load, not waiting to listen to any complaints and I plough on ahead.

I’m just about to enter a clearing when I feel Spike’s hand over my mouth, bringing me to a halt.

“Don’t move!” I feel his breath tickle the shell of my ear as he whispers urgently, amped by something. His body feels too close and I feel myself start to hyperventilate. I think I’m finally getting what this vampire sense thing is, as having him grab me like this seems to set off some weird feelings. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, and I can’t tell whether I feel horny, or whether my body’s telling me danger is near.

I gulp and peer into the dark to see we’ve veered close to a road, and around a dozen men on horseback are riding by. They’re wearing body armour and an insignia of some kind, a red lion wearing a gold crown. This must be the Kings guard Geoffrey spoke of.

It takes a while before they’re out of sight and I feel Spike relax. “That was bloody close.” He says to Geoffrey and I.

“This is the only route I know, I don’t want to get us lost in the undergrowth,” Geoffrey tells us, “It’s not much further now, just keep your eyes peeled.”

Its begun to pour with rain and I feel utterly miserable, soaked to the bone and starving. We’ve been walking for hours and this doesn’t seem like such a good idea now. We could’ve set up camp hours ago and waited out the rain.

Eventually we come to a dell and at the bottom is a sweet cottage covered in ivy and surrounded by rose bushes. Even in this miserable weather the blooms provide beautiful dots of colour, and, better than that, I can smell something scrummy cooking and see a chimney blowing smoke up into the air. Food and warmth sound divine right now.

The wooden door opens and a young woman peers into the night, her hand on her brow.

“This is it.” Geoffrey tells us.

“Thank god.” I say.

“Thank the lord, indeed.” The monk smiles. The poor guy must think I’m religious and it’s made him happy. Oh, well, I won’t tell.

We reach the door and the inside glows so invitingly I just want to run inside and snuggle up next to the fire like a kitty cat.

“Please come in and dry yourselves by the fire.” She says, welcoming Geoffrey and I in first. Then she stops and looks Spike over. “Ah, yes, the vampyre.” She pauses, and I feel sorry for Spike who is standing in the pouring rain outside the door, trying not to look as utterly depressed by the weather as we all felt. I make up my mind there and then, if he’s not welcome, I’m not staying either.

“Spike, mam.” He says, looking bashful and unsure of himself. This is a first.

“My name is Eloise and I believe I need to give you a direct invitation, Spike,” She smiles, and gestures for him to enter, “Do come in, Spike.”

I like the kind lady with the pretty name already.

“Buffy, dear, my runes foretold your coming and I have a bath ready for you in my bedroom. We can dry your things next to the fire.” She ushers me through a brightly coloured curtain to a tiny room with a small wooden bed. The boho style room has been warmed by a fire and a wooden bath sits on its floor, steam rising above it. Is this heaven? I’m pretty sure it is.

I remove my clothing and step into the bath. Oh my god! This feels so good I could stay here forever. I watch as Eloise comes in to collect my clothes before disappearing with a knowing smile.

I close my eyes and the only thing keeping me awake is the smell of delicious food and my stomach growling. I dry myself and put on the white, floor length shift dress Eloise has left on her bed for me.

When I come out, I’m amused to find Spike wearing a dress, well, not exactly a dress, a long white shift, like a very long shirt. He shoots me a withering look and I try not to giggle.

Eloise passes me a wooden comb and a small vial. “It’s an essential oil, it’s good for your hair, gets rid of the rat’s tails.” She tells me as she goes back to stirring her cauldron. So that’s where the delicious smell is coming from, not a spell, but dinner, yum.

I try to pull the comb through my hair and it keeps getting stuck, to the point I think I might break the comb. “Damn it!” I say through gritted teeth.

“Come here you daft bint.” Spike says as he seats me on a three-legged wooden stool and stands behind me. He opens the vial and rubs the sweet-smelling oil into his hands, the scent is something between lavender and rose. He’s smoothing it all over my hair and massaging it into my scalp. Woah, this is amazing, I know I like people brushing my hair, but scalp massage takes it to a whole other level and I almost dissolve into a puddle of goo with that and his touch. Once he’s finished with the massage, he’s combing the tangles out of my hair with such a gentle touch I wasn’t sure he was still there. I see Eloise eye Geoffrey, along with his deep sigh in response. 

I don’t know what to say. Spike never ceases to surprise me either.

……………………………..

Oh, there is no doubt about it, these two are what we call twin souls, destined to be together. The problem is the vampyre no longer has his soul, but in this case, it doesn’t seem to matter, their aura when they touch each other is so beautiful it brings a lump to my throat.

They are both coated in dark magic, but this doesn’t stop the glow shining through. From what I’ve seen so far, the dark magic is not of their making, in fact not of the making of any witch or warlock I’ve ever encountered. It feels…new, like some amazing spell has just been born, yet its black magic reminds me not to connect with it too closely or I risk becoming drawn in by it. I’ll need to take precautions, oh yes.

Geoffrey and Spike regale me with the tale of how they happened to be here, in what is the past for them, and the vampyre complained when I gave him the shift to wear so that I might dry his clothing, muttering something about his leather coat being ruined. He may be an anomaly in the vampire world, but he still retains a narcissistic trait, and why would he not? He is a beautiful creature and a fine specimen of a man.

I’ve had the foresight to keep the blood from the goat I slaughtered to make this fine meal and pass the heated blood to Spike before serving up our meal. Each one is eating with gusto, clearly grateful for the hot meal and I sit back in my easy chair with my eyes closed, trying to get a feel for the magic. It's lovely to have company, it doesn’t happen often in my neck of the woods and I’m glad Brother Geoffrey has come to me, he knows the Watchers Council approve of me and he was right to do so.

The girl is a true Slayer, of that much I’m sure, and what she lacks for in skill, I daresay she makes up for in strength and passion yet to be unleashed. She’s unaware of the strength she holds and being here is a distraction from her calling. The vampire is an escape for her from the harsh monotony she’s experienced in her life before, even though he doesn’t know it. He hides his care for her behind bravado and harsh words.

It’s a shame he cares for her and they are destined, she is too young in his mind to take and it would be nice to take the virile vampire to bed for a night, it’s been so long since I’ve felt the skin of another against my own. If only the monk wasn’t a man of god and principle, I know he would also make a fine lover.

………………………………………………………..

I can’t keep letting these feelings overwhelm me. She’s a Slayer and I’m a sodding vampire. Running my fingers through her hair was about as close to heaven as a git like me could ever get. Every time I try to distance myself from her my demon pushes me to relish her tender touch, it revels in her attention and warmth. I can’t continue like this. My demon is supposed to tell me to drain the bint, throw her limp body aside like a sack of spuds once I’ve feasted on her blood, yet here I am again, she’s asleep before the fire, wrapped around my body like a limpet as I try to sleep.

I watch the fire flickering, my thoughts disturbed by the loud snores of the monk. He and the witch drank a fair amount of mead before passing out in their respective chairs and I’m tempted to take Buffy and lay her in the Witches bed, fuck, someone should have a decent sleep. There I go again, thinking of her comfort rather than my own.

I’m no saint and there have been so many times this girl has made me hard I can’t count them, but Dru wouldn’t like it if I did anything untoward, and the Slayers just a baby, a baby who looks like a woman, but thinks like a child in many ways none the less. Back in my human time, no-one would’ve thought twice about marrying one so young as her. Women of her age died in childbirth frequently, sold their bodies on the street for a pittance, lived in squalor and worked their fingers to the bone just to feed themselves back then. Times have changed in the past century. I’m a killer but I don’t rape, haven’t taken anyone against their will since Angelus was in his prime, and, even then, I mostly was only present when he did it and drained them when he made me do it, promising to take Dru away from me and leave if I didn’t. He loved to hear them scream in torment, call out for their mothers as he took them with cock and fangs and I just went along with it for a quiet life, because if I didn’t, he’d want to fuck me or Dru instead. Now, it’s just easier to take my victims when they’re willing, give them a good death, hell, as good as it could ever be, like the death Dru gave me, all ecstasy and rapture. You don’t find people being run over by a bus or dying in pain free bliss while they have a bloody heart attack, do you?

Why I am I even thinking of this? I need to push any thoughts of Buffy away and concentrate on getting us home. Buffy’s hair smells like flowers and I feel my eyelids drooping, I admit to myself that being here in her arms is sweet torment as I nuzzle the back of her neck and drift off.


	7. Chapter 7

[](https://imgur.com/8HjgSVO)

I’m awake and thinking about feeding again, as the rain stops. It was nice of the witch to save the goats blood, but it’s not enough, not when a young, nubile, blonde is sleeping in my arms, the throb of her carotid wide open to attack and the thin cotton of our nightshirts the only thing separating us from true nakedness.

Buffy sighs as I try to move her aside. Dawn’s a few hours away and I know I can hunt down a young buck or some other creature in the woods. Not that they’re to my taste, but it’s better than itching fangs and a hard on for a girl I shouldn’t even be thinking about that way. I close my eyes, breathing in her scent. She moans and wrinkles her nose in distaste. God, that sound isn’t helping at all, and I’m wishing myself anywhere else but here. Perhaps I could have a quick wank in the woods if I leave now? Then at least I’ll be able to focus my mind again. It’s not as if I’m a stranger to knocking one out, Dru rarely lets me near her, hasn’t since Prague. I can’t say as I blame the bint, she’s half out of her mind with pain and that’s the half she had left after Angelus tortured her into the crazed soul she is.

I eye my clothes drying by the fire and ease myself slowly off the cot. Buffy doesn’t make a sound, thankfully, and she rolls into the spot I just left, lifting the coverlet and hugging it to her. That could be me, she could be taking me in her arms and I could still be there, relishing her heat, drowning in it.

The fires low now, and the witch and the monk are still sleeping. I grab my jeans and ease them on, finding they’re still a bit damp in the pockets, what do I care, though? Evil, aren’t I? I purse my lips, I actually do mind, especially as I’ve just left a nice warm bed, with a toasty girl in it. Why do I spend my life deceiving myself?

I jump as I hear a voice in the gloom. “I always find the best place is the woodshed when I have company.” Eloise is awake and seems to know exactly what’s on my mind, her voice is barely higher than a whisper, though, so she won’t wake the others. I feel dirty for even having those thoughts about Buffy, and how the fuck would the witch even know I was thinking of Buffy in that way? I wonder if she saw my dick through the cotton, against the last light of the fire as I pulled on my jeans? I can’t even blame it on morning wood, as it’s not really morning for me. I nod and see her grin before she turns in her chair, closing her eyes again.

When I open the door, it’s almost pitch-black outside, the canopy of trees above shielding any moonlight from the cottage, so I have to rely on my nocturnal senses to work out where I’m going. I turn suddenly, hearing a movement and a thudding staccato beat of an animal a few paces away. I’ll eat first, then take care of the other, err, problem, when I’ve fed.

I spot the badger and sigh, I know they can be ferocious, but not as brutal as me, plus, it isn’t going to be the most fulfilling of meals, but I don’t have much time, so launch myself of it, pinning it on its back as I lower my head to its throat.

Seconds later I’ve finished, throwing the dead animal aside, I spy a red fox watching from the edge of the clearing, waiting for its chance to claim the carrion. It hesitates, disturbed by the sound of hooves at the same time I hear them, and it scoots away, leaving only a rustle of bramble in its wake.

For fuck’s sake, what now? I thought we’d lost the bloody Kings Guard last afternoon, but here they are again, passing by on the road in the distance.

Eloise isn’t a stupid witch by any means, and I can only hope she has some sort of glamour on the cottage, as I head through the brush, towards the Kings Road.

I pause at the top of a hillock, screened by trees and hawthorn bushes. I’m aware I’m wearing my black jeans, but that I only stopped to tuck in my white cotton nightshirt into them before I left. I can’t risk getting too close as the cotton would stand out like a beacon to the blazing torches they’re holding up high on wooden poles as they canter along the road.

At least twenty pass by, dressed in their uniform like earlier, but this time I notice someone pulling up at the rear, riding a black stallion with no emblem, wearing only a long hooded cloak. I risk stepping closer as he slows and takes his hood down, looking into the darkness with his torch held high above his head. There’s something I recognise about him, like I’ve met him before somewhere, but can’t immediately place him and the light of the torch makes it hard to see his face.

He’s wearing blue denim jeans, and if that’s not a tell, then nothing is.

I continue to watch and step back into the shadows as he turns, moving his beacon to his other hand, his horse whinnying as he yanked on its bridle. Then I see him, I fucking know him!

Rack. It’s that fucking tosser, Rack!

………………………..

I storm back to the cottage, as I have no time to think about wanking off now. I’m so incensed that a fucking warlock is here from our time, and I sodding know he was the one to bring us here, I can feel it in my gut!

The last time I saw him was in Italy about nineteen fifty. He’d been infamous for giving people what they wanted, while taking something precious from them. It was only hearsay from the underworld, but he was a warlock of the highest order, and he’d never aged a jot when I saw him hanging out in New York in the seventies. Fuck, the seventies were a shit time for feeding, Dru and I had the pick of junkies and I’d graded the humans into pot smokers, amphetamine addicts and the true heroin junkie, half dead and rotting away in their own filth, the walking dead. Then there were other addicts, the magic addicts, demons who could pass as human and frequented CBGB’s, who went into Rack’s lair, and never returned the same, their shakes as bad as human withdrawl. If he was here and he was the one to cast the spell, I need to talk to Eloise and I need to talk to her now.

Flinging open the door, I almost shit myself as Geoffrey opens his eyes, recoils and let’s fly the arrow from the crossbow on his lap. It hits the doorframe beside my head and I sneer at him, my brow wrinkling and threatening more. The blokes been good to me mostly, but I’m not sure I can forgive him firing a weapon at me. I move swiftly towards him, glowering as I stand over him, grateful that he was too pissed to aim properly. “Watch it, you stupid, fuckin’ git! Vampire here!”

He instantly looks apologetic and we both turn as Buffy wakes, sitting up in the cot and screaming.

I rush to her as she dissolves into tears, unsure why her crying makes my gut churn. What the fuck is wrong with me? What the fuck is wrong with her?

………………………

 “She’ll be fine.” Eloise hands Spike a cup of warm milk and places a comforting hand on his shoulder.

I pinch the bridge of my nose with my fingers and place the crossbow to the floor. I don’t know what made me release the arrow at Spike, but I was asleep and thought we were under attack. I’m glad I didn’t kill him, and this is something I wish I didn’t have to say at all. Members of the clergy and the Watchers Council should never be concerned about killing one of the undead, but the thought of slaying Spike makes me uneasy, and not just for Buffy’s sake, but for my own too. The vampyre saved me and he did something for my Agnes that no other human, nor supernatural, would’ve done, I just know it, and I’m sorry. He has every right to be angry with me.

“I need to talk to you, once I get the girl settled,” Spike tells Eloise urgently, glancing at me. I’m wondering what he’s up to, but he’s paler than usual, if that’s possible. I wonder why I’ve even allowed myself to fall asleep again while the vampyre has sneaked away into the night. He could be lulling us all into a false sense of security, until the one time he truly does harm us. Watching him caress Buffy’s lower back with an open palm as he whispers to her, slowing her tears, a look of concern etched on his features as he brushes tears away from her face with his thumbs, still inspires fear in me. He has an odd look as he watches her breathing steady, and I don’t know what to say, but I must talk to him.

I stand unsteadily and look to Eloise. She’s clearly been waiting for Spike’s return, why else would she have hot milk ready for the poor girl? I know little about the witch, other than she’s someone to go to when in an extramundane pinch, but she seems to have skills in mind sight, or perhaps is an empath? She gives me a sympathetic look of understanding and I give her a tight smile. One can’t help but wonder if I’ve buggered things up between us all, and if either will trust me again.

………………………

I had the worst dream about a man. A man with long, dark, shaggy hair. His eyes were weird, like one wasn’t quite open, and he had a freakish scar on his cheek. He was meeting with a blonde man who I knew was a vampire, but it definitely wasn’t Spike, he was larger than Spike, and he wore a cloak. He reminded me of Dracula in the old black and white movies, not fugly, but not too Billy Idol pretty like Spike, either. I haven’t watched many old black and white movies, apart from at Halloween, but I know an old vampire when I see one on screen. Anyway, they both turned and looked at me when I screamed, and they were getting too close when the dream ended.

As I wake, I realise I’ve just yelled out for real, and I turn to look at Spike. I’ve never dreamed like this before, and when I come back to reality he’s standing in the doorway to the cottage, his eyes burning as he stares at Geoffrey. Why are they even awake at this time? I can’t help but whimper at the well of emotion bursting from my chest. Spike comes to me immediately, and I wonder if I’ve made a total dickweed of myself.

Spike pulls me close and I feel better, and then he tries to make me drink some disgusting milk drink. I’m crying, I can’t help it. I feel like the guys from my dream are hovering in my peripheral vision, but having Spike close makes all sorts of butterflies’ stream through my chest. Am I still dreaming? He rubs my tears away with his thumbs, and his eyes are so intense, I feel like they’re boring into my soul.

Geoffrey’s beside me, his hand on my shoulder, and he glances at Spike with an apologetic look. “Spike, that wasn’t meant to happen.”

I watch Spike as he closes his eyes, cricking his neck before he answers. “Think nothing of it.” He growls. The base vibration of his voice makes me quiver. I reach to pull my lower lip between my thumb and forefinger as I watch him. He’s so gorgeous like this, my thighs clench of their own accord.

Why do I feel I’ve missed something?

…………….

I’ve been awake for an hour since Spike left, as his need was so tempting it was hard not to follow and see to him pleasure himself. Of course, I wouldn’t, but after a night on the mead, my libido was ruling my head.

Any impure thoughts ended when he returned and was almost shot with an arrow from Geoffrey’s crossbow in my home. I’m a white witch, but I have enough power to penetrate the mind. All three have no way to know this, nor shut me out. Geoffrey’s mind was chaste, although he battled with obscene thoughts of me in my shift. Buffy, well, she has learned something about herself as a Slayer and is mulling that over constantly in the back of her mind, while warring with indecent feelings for Spike. Spike was the hardest. Undead, but yet his memories were the most captivating, and I spent hours delving into his mind as he said virtually nothing. His attempts to combat his feelings for Buffy were the most interesting. He also thinks he’s come back to tell me about the warlock from their time, like I don’t already know.

Rack was only here last night, believing his powers were greater than mine, he warned of strangers in the woods, never believing I knew he was from the future. I read his mind, and like so many others it was easy to read. He tried to supply me with the purest magics he had, magics which would draw me in. I sent him on his way, lust in his eyes as he carried his dwelling darkness and forgot who I was. He’d stepped into the lair of the white witch, and he would regret that.

I knew exactly what Spike wanted to discuss with me, he barely had to tell us what he’d seen. He’d been right, my glamour would protect us for now, and the powers I’d drained from the warlock could be redirected and used for good. All I needed was a reason.

I now felt part of this group and I knew where my troop must go to be able to send Spike and Buffy back to their own time. But I wondered if they had the strength to fight Lothos? At least I know Spike and I have the power to fight Rack.


	8. Chapter 8

[](https://imgur.com/8HjgSVO)

I loathe these times as I’m a damn powerful warlock in the back of beyond. The food’s terrible and there’s not even a proper working john. I’m already pissed because I stuck my dick in some stinging nettles in the forest when I went for a piss and hurts like a motherfucker. Still, my time here should be short. I’m only here because Lothos has lost the damn slayer I sent here. The girl was ripe, just about to come into her own, but not so close as she’d be trouble. I waited for her when India, the previous slayer, died and I know she got here because I can feel the magic, you know, it’s my own, so of course I’d sense it.  I need to get back to my own time to wait for the next slayer to rise, Lothos only needs one more to cast the spell to open the hellmouth but if anything goes wrong then I can at least offer up another. The vamp sought me out in my time, saying he’d been sitting on a plan that hadn’t worked four hundred years ago. He wanted me to provide him with the means to open the hellmouth and he seemed to have a notion about becoming king of a world overrun by hell demons. I can’t really understand why Satan himself wouldn’t want that title, but the vamp has his reasons and I’m paid so well I’m not going to question his philosophy. All I know is that he promises me a place at his right hand once I return to nineteen ninety-six, and fuck, yeah, I’ll take that too.

“Sir Rack, we’ve found something.” One of the Kings Guard beckons me. Would you believe the absolute crap I fed the King worked? That I’m an aristocrat from near the Scottish border? Their accent up in the north of England is so thick, they hardly notice the difference between that and American, weird, right? Plus, he was glad of my supposed help with keeping the Scottish in their place. You know, I haven’t got a damn clue how I pulled it off, as British history is not my strong suit.

I head over to look at what they’ve found. My magics strong here, there’s a small clearing with the remains of a long dead fire. I scan the area and out of the corner of my eye I see a small piece of screwed up parchment, clearly discarded, with something scrawled on it. “Agnes died today.”

“Can anyone tell me who Agnes is?” I ask the guard. They talk amongst themselves, many shrugging and shaking their heads.

A soldier stepped forward. “I think there was an Agnes in my village, she works for the Monk. I always thought it was strange he didn’t live at the monastery.”

Bingo! This man’s with Buffy Summers, the newly called slayer. “Show me to him.” I call to the man, swinging myself back onto my horse and whipping my cloak over my back. Never in my life did I think I’d be riding a huge black horse while having the power to send myself back in time.

As I race thought the forest I think of the sweet little witch, Eloise, back at her cottage, gagging for it following my visit yesterday. I’ll be heading right there once we track the little slayer bitch and hand her over to Lothos. The witch has some power and my fingers wriggle on the reigns as I think about taking a taste of her mind. Life is going to be so sweet, man.

…………..

Buffy’s still afraid., Her dreams have shaken her, and she trembles while Geoffrey tries to talk to her. They’re seated at my table and all is not well.

“Buffy, these dreams are normal, they’re often prophetic but sometimes they’re of your mind’s own making.” He soothes her.

“Don’t think that’s helpin’ much, mate, vaguely tellin’ the chit that the dreams might come true or that otherwise she’s probably a bit crazy to come up with vamps she doesn’t know, but who I’ve seen.” Spike huffs, his hands firmly on the back of Buffy’s chair.

“I don’t want to meet them! If that’s in my future I just want to go home, I don’t think I’m cut out to be a slayer, I just want my mom!” Buffy slams her mug on the table, slides from the chair and runs into my room.

Geoffrey and Spike are just making things worse. “Do you two have any sense at all? Can’t you imagine how terrified she must be of the changes she’s going through?”

“She must face this, Eloise, she’s a slayer whether she likes it or not.” Geoffrey insists.

“That she may be, but she needs time to adjust,” I argue, “You can’t just expect her to just be ready, it’s your job to make her ready!”

“Christ, if she isn’t ready, we won’t have time to train her, we might as well get on with training the next slayer as she’ll be pushing up fuckin’ daisies!” Spike shoves the chair away from him aggressively.

“Spike, it’s not your job to train her, you’re a-a vampire and by rights you shouldn’t be here at all!” Geoffrey snipes.

“I’m not leavin’ that girl! If you try to make me, you know who she’ll follow? She’ll follow me,” He pokes himself in the chest, “the most familiar one, the one whose protected her since she arrived, the one who car…oh, fuck this!” Spike picks up his coat and storms outside, his head covered to protect him from the light as he runs in the direction of the wood shed.

I love having company, but the dramatics are all a bit too much to bear.

“Eloise, I don’t care what he thinks! Spike is of no consequence! It’s my job to train a slayer in my care, that means, whatever time she’s come from, I’m her guardian, her watcher, and until someone comes along who can replace me, I’m going to take care of her.”

I place my hands on my hips and scowl at him, goddess, they are so childish, it gets on my last nerve, and I feel like hexing the pair of them. “And a fine job you’re doing of that right now, Geoffrey Giles! Shall I see if the girl is alright, or will you?”

He shakes his head in shame when he realises what I mean, and I move to allow him to pass me as he walks towards my room. I’d cheerfully like to shake some sense into the pair of them, but instead I head outside to the woodshed to check our resident vampire hasn’t burst into flames.

…………

What the fuck is wrong with me? It’s like I’m in some weird sit-com about the life of a slayer and her friends, a witch, a monk and a vampire. I don’t know why I stormed away, probably because Geoffrey, the git, already thinks I care too much about the slayer, and Eloise still has that knowing look every time I look at Buffy, like she can see us getting married or some such rot.

Alright, I’ll admit I’m jealous, but I know far more than Geoffrey does about battle tactics and martial arts, it comes from over a hundred years of fighting any comers, travelling the world, and training to kill Buffy’s kind. But the bird deserves a chance, and a bookish, balding monk from the middle ages is not my idea of a great sensei.

If I train Buffy to fight me one day, she’ll be my most glorious opponent, she’ll try to kick my arse, and I wouldn’t hold back in training her. I’d give her every chance to win, give it my all and we’d meet like the warriors we both are, in a timeless dance between the hunter and the hunted, and if I do it right, neither of us will know which we are. She needs me to make her the best slayer who ever lived.

Bloody hell, the witch is coming to give me a piece of her mind, no doubt, I can hear her heartbeat racing even before she slams open the door to the wood shed.

“Oi! Flammable vamp here!” I protest as she lets in the sunlight.

“I have had it with you two! The testosterone in my cottage is about to blow the roof off! If you two can’t see how your bickering is affecting Buffy, then you don’t deserve to care for her.” She slams the door shut behind her and I sit back on a lump of wood.

“What? I don’t care for her!” I try to point out, but she’s having none of it. She closes her eyes, and when she opens them they’re a scary glowing red, and her hairs billowing around her, like a gale is blowing. What the fuck?

“Do not lie to me! I will not abide liars in my home!” Her voice sounds ragged, like she’s speaking through a long metal tube and it’s just damn weird. I hold my hands up in defeat, the witch is liable to turn me into a frog or something if I’m not careful. How would a vampire frog eat? Can’t say as I fancy noshing down on other frogs…

“Listen to me!” She demands, dragging me out of my daydream.

“Yeah, no need to go all night of the living dead on me, love.” I’m gagging for a fag, patting my pockets as I search for something I know isn’t there, I’ve long run out, and she shocks me when she takes a pipe from her pocket, along with a small pouch and hands it to me, sitting on a pile of wood next to me.

“I have no idea what night of the living dead is, Spike, but please do not insult my intelligence, I know when someone is speaking in jest against me.”

I peer inside the bag, its bloody tobacco! Even I know that wasn’t around at this point in history. I stare at her with my mouth open and when she reaches over to close it, it snaps shut with a plop.

“I have my ways, the weed was what you craved, I created it with a spell.” She explains.

“Err, thanks ever so.” I snark as I fill the pipe and take out my lighter, the first drag isn’t like smoking a tailored cigarette but it’s almost as good, this woman is a godsend.

I smoke silently, wondering whether I look like some old sailor with a wooden pipe, and I feel her watching me. “How did you know I wanted that?” I ask eventually, not really wanting to know the answer, she’s been poking around in my brain, I know it, and I don’t want to know what she’s seen, she’s a nice witch and I daresay she’s horrified by my past behaviour if she’d seen but a snapshot of my life since I was turned.  I can’t bring myself to be too concerned, what would she expect to find in a brutal killers’ memories? Puppies and kittens? Yeah, there were certainly some of them, with their throats ripped out. I bite my lip. “Can’t say I’m all that enamoured with you pokin’ around in my noggin.” I inform her, and she has the good manners to look contrite.

“Do you really think I’d let you into my home without at least a peek?”

“Prob’ly not.” I answer with a sigh. What is it with women and their need to be wandering around people’s minds? Dru was the same, she didn’t come up with much sense from it, but she couldn’t have known some of the things she knew without have some sort of six sense.

“Drusilla didn’t know occlumency though.” Eloise agrees.

Oi! She’s bloody answering my question, ones I didn’t speak out loud. “Now that’s enough! I don’t blimmin’ give you permission to read my mind anymore! Not that I ever did! Much as it’s probably ten times more interestin’ than the monks or Buffy’s, keep your soddin’ nose out.” I don’t care if I’m being a git, she needs to know I’m on to her.

She chuckles and whips the pipe from my mouth, taking a smoke herself. She doesn’t cough, which is rather disappointing, and I wonder if she’s done this before as she’s spoiled my fun. I wanted to laugh and point when she choked on the smoke.

“It tastes like it smells, horrible.” She spits on the floor and wipes her mouth.

I can’t help but laugh. “So why are you really here, pet?”

“This can’t carry on. I have something to tell you about Geoffrey.” She admits, smoothing her dress over her knees.

I close my eyes, sigh and nod, urging her to go on with a flick of my pipe before I take another drag, feeling a bit like my father, who took his pipe by the fireside when I was a tot. I could really do without talking about watcher-wanker right now.

“Geoffrey is a complex character, his faith isn’t what it used to be, and he struggles with living outside the monastery. He wants a different life, a life that includes a wife and children, but he’s been part of the religious order since he was eight years old and now he realises what he felt for Agnes, how he feels for Buffy, is like father might. He also has feelings and thoughts about me as a woman he’d like to make love to.”

Well, isn’t that a turn up for the books? The monk fancying the witch when he’s supposed to be celibate. “Go on.” I say, trying to stop a full-on grin splitting my face.

“He’s a good man, Spike, he has his demons…”

“Yeah, but one might say they’re not as bad as mine.” I interrupt with a snort.

“I think you’re right there,” She agrees with a wry smile, “but he needs your help, Spike, this isn’t something that happens every day here. Yes, he’s a watcher for a vampire slayer, but generally there’s no talk of hellmouths and people being sent back from the future. He’s not like you, he doesn’t take things in his stride, he doesn’t have the fight in him you do, and he’s struggling with his feelings for me, just as you are for Buffy.”

What the pissing, fuck? Where’s the bint getting this crap from? Alright, I admit I care about the slayer, I wouldn’t want to see her dead, but only because I don’t want to get stuck here for sodding ever. Alright, it’s a fair cop, I know she’s right and she’s got me there, I care too much for Buffy, she’s becoming a part of my life in a way I never expected. Why else would I almost forget Dru? We had a whole fucking conversation about her and still I hadn’t a thought for how my ripe, wicked plum was getting along without me. I’ve never been selfish, never thought of anyone’s welfare but Dru’s, or my mums back in the day, but the less thought of her, the better, that’s just opening a whole, other can of dogshit.

I remain silent as she continues, and I gather she notices I haven’t disagreed with that statement.

“All I ask is that we get along for Buffy’s sake, things could get much worse before they get better.” She leaves that hanging for a few moments.

“You mean Rack.” I reply, tapping the last of the tobacco out of the pipe onto the floor and refilling it. The woodshed is looking rather like an opium den I once saw during the Boxer Rebellion, but I don’t care, I want another, and if the witch is going to harp on, then I’ll do as I please.

She looks thoughtful. “He thinks he’s more powerful than me, and he’s sorely mistaken. I left him feeling so much lust for me and the magic I hold, he’ll be back tonight and I’m going to let him in because we need to capture him, find out what he knows.”

Rack, coming here! Is she bloody joking? “I don’t want that ponce anywhere near Buffy!” I yell, standing up above Eloise, knowing my demeanour is threatening, just as I like it. She stands and places a gentle hand on my arm, attempting to settle me down, but I begin pacing in the small space, the pipe in my mouth as it wafts in clouds behind me.

“Buffy needs to be here, she’ll be what draws him here, he can feel his own magic, and he’s already found your last camp in the woods. He’s headed to Geoffrey’s as he has a lead.” She says gently. “I have a feeling he doesn’t know you’re here, Spike, and that gives us the advantage.”

“No!” I don’t even think before the word exits my mouth, and I point the pipe at her. “No bloody way, we need to leave right now, I’m not waiting for that wanker to come here!” I knew the powerful warlock would let me go, wouldn’t care about the likes of me, we might have a chat about old times, but he’d be happy to take a precious thing from me and set me free. I don’t even want to name the precious thing, because I know it’s Buffy and if I say it out loud I’ll have outed myself, I’ll be admitting I want Buffy and I can’t admit that, she’s just a girl, a girl a demon like me should never want for himself. Admitting it to myself brings up so many questions. I would never take, never push Buffy for anything more, and that’s how I know I’m lost to her, she’s just a young girl who deserves so much better than the likes of me. The problem is that Eloise and Rack will know how I feel, and Rack will take her from me regardless of whether I could even claim her as my own.

Eloise nods, “It’s safe here, I promise you, you’re all safe with me.” She rises and moves to the door.

I have a feeling I’ll be talked into this plan of hers against my better judgement.

What has Buffy done to me? And how can I ever keep it a secret from her now?

……..

“Buffy?” I enter Eloise’s room and smell the scent of the purest witch I’ve ever encountered. Her faith in her goddess is almost equal to my own faith in the lord, although, I admit my own has been waning recently as I feel like the supernatural world I’m part of has somehow taken a hold of me, but now is not the time to concern myself with that, my god knows my thoughts and I’ll pay penance to him alone.

Buffy’s huddled upon Eloise’s cot bed and I move to sit beside her. “I’m sorry, dearest one.” I place a hand on her shoulder and realise she’s shaking. “Buffy?”

She turns, her eyes red and brimming with tears, moving away from me until her back is against the wall at the head of the bed.

“Geoffrey, I’m lost here, I don’t know what I’m doing.” She crosses her arms across her chest in a way so like Agnes, I want to cry. “I’m having scary dreams, and you’re all fighting, you nearly shot Spike with a crossbow, and I think I might die if I lost him now.” She’s sobbing, and I don’t know what to do.

Agnes knew her job and, as barely trained as she was she kept her emotions in controlled. I have no idea how to deal with a young girl whose every thought and feeling pours from her mouth, unchecked.

“There are things only I can teach you, things you must know to become what you are. Spike, he means well…”

“Spike has skills you don’t! You saw that when he trained me in the woods, he knows things.” She interrupts.

She’s defending him, of course she would, and I have to agree, Spike knows more than I do about the art of fighting. But I know what she needs to learn to become a slayer from scratch. “Spike won’t be going anywhere, he will help, but from now we must begin your training in earnest, you must mind what I have to say and so must Spike.”

“Good luck with that.” Buffy giggles through her tears.

I chuckle myself. Thanks be to god that she’s stopped her hysterics. “We both want what’s best for you and we must learn to work together, as it seems he won’t leave you, and you won’t stay without him.”

She flings herself into my arms telling me thank you, taking me aback. I hold my arms away from her for a moment, before enclosing them around her and patting her back. Perhaps if I’d shown more fatherly affection to Agnes she might have fought harder to come home to me? That’s something I’ll never know, not now she’s gone, but I know I won’t let that happen to Buffy, no longer will I be a watcher who sits at the side lines and allows my charge to go out to hunt alone, from now onwards, I’ll be within her sight, ensuring her safety until my dying breath.

…………..

Geoffrey and Buffy are sitting by the fire when we come inside, Buffy’s sitting beside the hearth, her head rested on his knee and they both look peaceful. My stomach gurgles as its late morning and I didn’t have time to eat breakfast due to the ruckus, so I set about preparing some food.

There are things that need to be talked about today and I need to talk to Buffy too, to tell her my plan, but I have a feeling her confidence needs to be built by the men who are at loggerheads, they will have spend some time training her today once they resolve their issues with one another.

I know Rack won’t arrive here until sundown, so they have hours to fill. They know nothing of my secret place hidden in the ground outside the cottage, and neither, thankfully, does Rack. He is an arrogant man who needs taking down a peg or two and I’m just the witch to do it, in fact, I’m looking forward to it.

………..

Geoffrey is a nice man, he cares about me and although he didn’t like the fact I hugged him, but he held me while I cried. I feel like the whole world has changed, not just because I’m in a strange land, but because I don’t know who I am anymore. My mom and dad seem so far away, and I don’t think my friends would ever understand any of this, I don’t think I’ll fit in anymore and that’s the worst, they’ll think I’m some nimrod and totally crazy if I try to tell them.

Everyone here understands, they know what I am, and they try to help me. But all they seem to do is argue over me and they don’t know how mixed up I am by all this. I’ve never been out of LA, apart from that one time we visited grandma Summers out in Texas, but even people from Texas aren’t like people from England five hundred years ago, they like grilling food and grandma likes her horses but I can’t see any similarities other than that. That’s why I cling to Spike, he knows my time, he was in LA right when we got taken and he hasn’t left my side since. He’s hot, and he pays me tons of attention, gets angry over me and makes me feel safe. He may be a vampire, but he makes my neck tingle without touching me and that’s something no boy I’ve ever kissed has ever done. I know he wouldn’t want anyone like me, I’m too much of an airhead and he has someone back home, even if he doesn’t mention her much, but I can’t help but wonder if he likes me, you know, like that.

Things are getting a little too crazy for me, I want to relax and just let the others help, but my head is telling me to get back to the elevator, to try to make it work. Perhaps Eloise could help us with that? Hmm, I hadn’t thought about it, she’s a witch, right?

I lay my head on Geoffrey’s knee as we sit beside the fire and he lets me, I wish my dad stayed still long enough for me to do that. When Spike walks in he avoids looking at me but sits on the stool opposite me, his legs spread as he begins to say something to the watcher. I’m mesmerised by his hands which move as he talks, and I watch his face while he apologises to Geoffrey for arguing with him earlier.

“Eloise told me Rack would be here later, she knows things, watcher, and we need to make sure Buffy’s safe. She said he’s sent Buffy here and I have an inkling it’s to do with Lothos and the Hellmouth, Lothos needs her blood and now isn’t the time for fightin’, mate, now’s the time for making a plan.”

My head snaps up when I hear my name mentioned, Lothos wants my blood! “He can’t have it!” I stand and glower at them both. Spike smirks at me and shakes his head, and Geoffrey sits forward in his chair speaking to me for the first time.

“That’s right, he won’t have your blood, child, so what will you do about it?” He asks me.

“I’ll kill him, he’s a warlock, I can kill warlocks, right?” I ask Spike. I notice a shadow crossing Spikes face before he looks up to me and grins.

“Any bloody type of demon, witch or vamp who tries to cross you, sweetheart, is definitely a goner.” He replies.

“You can kill a witch or warlock, Buffy, but you need to be sure they’re evil, they’re human first, after all.” Eloise states, her face dropping as she realises the way the conversation is headed.

“But I can’t kill humans, isn’t that wrong?” I turn to Giles, seeking his input.

“Buffy, if they’re as old and malevolent as Rack then I don’t believe they’re classed as being human, there’s no humanity left in them, much like elder vampires.”

It was Spike’s turn to purse his lips. He rises and looks towards the kitchen, “I need a drink if we’re discussing ethics, do you have anything strong?” I watch him move closer to Eloise and jealously surges through my gut as she touches his arm, whispering something to him and offering him a bottle from her cupboard.

I seethe, as how dare she touch my vampire! Vindictively, I turn to Geoffrey, my voice dripping with venom as I say, “What’s stopping me from staking Spike right now? I am a vampire slayer after all?” I know it’s childish but hurt flushes through my veins at the thought he might like her more than me. They were outside together for quite some time earlier and she’s a beautiful woman, older than me and more experienced. Spike’s probably been out there doing stuff with her and I don’t think I can take it. He’s mine!

Spike’s back stiffens as he pours himself a drink from the clay bottle Eloise hands him into a mug. He’s shaking, and I know he’s about to explode in anger, as I’ve seen it happen. I wish I could take it back, it’s almost as bad as being told off by my dad, at least dad just sends me to my room. I have a feeling this is going to be so much worse when Geoffrey stands beside me and follows my eyes.

Spike drinks the cup he’s poured and pours another, his neck rolling, necking it in the same way as he did the first. I reach for the stake stashed away in my dress as wait for his reaction, feeling the ridges and a slight splinter in the wood against my thumb. I remind myself to file it off later. 

Spike turns and rolls his neck again, his face blank but his blue eyes dark, angry and wild.

He takes the bottle and pours himself another cup of drink. Before he drinks it, he stares into my eyes and I don’t think I’ve ever felt so afraid in my life.

“I’ll remind you of what I said in the elevator when we first met.  I’m not gonna kill you, yet. There are too many witnesses.”

With that, he throws back the alcohol and stomps outside, slamming the door to the cottage behind him so hard the whole house shakes.

I look to Geoffrey and then to Eloise and both won’t meet my eye, so I storm after him, knowing I’m the biggest idiot alive.

Please don’t be gone, my mind is yelling, please don’t leave me, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god!

………

Why the fuck am I still here and not in there draining the impertinent little bitch dry? She’s just humiliated me in front of the witch and the watcher and I fucking stood there and let her do it. Christ knows why I’m hiding in the wood shed, if I was anywhere else I’d be in my Desoto and flying down the highway, leaving the spiteful cow behind me, heading back to my Dru.

I look down at my hands and open my palms, there are bleeding half-moon circles where I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug in deep. I could rip her throat out while I pulled her hair out by the root, doesn’t she know that? I could do things to her that she couldn’t imagine in her worst nightmares, I could…

I hear her fling open the door and stand sobbing in the witch’s garden. She deserves every bloody tear, every bit of fucking shame for what she said to me! I’m damn well livid and I deserve to be, I’ve kept her safe and this is my reward, she might as well have kicked me in the bollocks, it would’ve hurt less.

I can’t do this, tonight I’m gone, tonight I’ll become what I truly am, a creature of the night and she better watch out for me, because there’ll be no more mister nice Spike, I’m going to be the master vamp I am, and she’ll just have to deal with…

“Spike?”

Her voice is sweet, just like I know she is. She knows just how to play me and however much I try I can’t help myself.

“Spike, I’m sorry.”

I place my head in my hands and scrub at my face, I’m sorry too, sorry I ever met you, sorry I didn’t drain you and sorry I care so bloody much about you, sweetheart.


	9. Chapter 9

[](https://imgur.com/8HjgSVO)

“I think, seein’ that I got us this far, sweetheart, that you owe me a bit more respect than that show of, of—What was that in there? Cause damned if I know!” I’m bloody annoyed with her, and she thinks sorry is enough for her display in the cottage.

“I don’t know, I—Well, I-I was jealous, you and Eloise were getting close and she was all with the ‘Oh, Spike, let me get you a drink and stand close and whisper with you’, I guess I was jealous because you’re my vampire, you came here with me! And she’s pretty and she’s older and she’s just not a kid like me.”

“Believe me, pet, you’re less of a kid than you think.” She has the body of a woman, a damn gorgeous one, but its laughable that she’s even jealous of Eloise, as I’ve got my dark princess waiting at home for me, and once we get back there, I’ll be off back to the one I should truly be with. There’s no way I can be with a fifteen-year-old girl, however much she fascinates me, or how much I care for her. Perhaps if she was three years older it might be alright, but I’m no sodding pedo, and I won’t be made into one, however much the little bint entices me. Young girls always were a tender meal, but not fit for anything more. As I’ve told myself a million times, I’m not Angelus.

“What do you mean? Does that mean—?”

“Don’t be getting’ and idea’s, love, what I mean is, you’re gorgeous an’ any boy would be lucky to have you, but I’m no boy, I’m a man who’s over a hundred years older than you, even the monk is like a babe in arms compared to me.” I have to get that idea out of her head right now, I have my limits, but essentially, I am a man, and I don’t know what I’d do if she started coming on to me, it would be a true exercise in self-restraint.

She’s pouting again, and I ready myself for her ire, what’ll she threaten me with this time? Cutting off my head, or perhaps tying me to a tree and leaving me to the sunlight? She needs to learn that not everything is about her. I’m fucking stuck here too.

“Oh.” She looks crestfallen.

“Look, it’ll be better for us both if we just get back to how things were, you rely on me, I’ll take care of you—in that way I’m all yours, pet —an’ then we just hope the witch can do somethin’ for us before Lothos decides to show his ugly mug. We’ve got Rack comin’ and that’s enough to worry about for now.”

She nods, but she’s clearly feeling this conversation hasn’t swung her way. Of course, it hasn’t, but I was never going to get down on one knee, offer her my skull ring and ask her to make me the happiest vamp on earth. Christ, Dru would pitch a bloody fit and my life wouldn’t be worth living. A vampire in a relationship with the Slayer? It doesn’t bear thinking about.

…….

I know I’ve been a psycho bitch, but he dismissed my feelings for him like I’m some silly little girl. Although he did say I was gorgeous, he didn’t say that about Eloise.  While Spike’s not looking, I poke my tongue out in Eloise’s direction, she wouldn’t see, though, because she’s inside. Regardless it gives me great satisfaction.

“OK, I, uh, I’m sorry again for being a drama queen and I won’t do it again.” I tell him.

“Oh, you’ll do it again, my sweet, because you’re growing up, you have feelings and that’s OK, but you just need to get feelings for someone your own age, cause as far as I’m concerned, I’m off limits. If you can understand that, then we can get on with being good mates like before, alright?”

I nod because I have no choice, he’s calling me jailbait and I guess I am. Back home he’d be arrested and locked up for even looking at me. The trouble is, his eyes are so soft and his face so earnest as he says it, I just want to jump into his arms and kiss him until I can’t breathe. I decide I can carry on thinking he’s hot and staring at him when he’s not looking, and revel in the butterflies he gives me in my stomach, as long as he holds me at night and takes care of me. I can manage that, as long as he doesn’t start flirting with any other woman, that could make it difficult to control myself. I have to admit, what happened back there was unlike me, I feel myself changing and I think it’s due to my slayer powers, those dreams I’ve had are nothing like anything I’ve ever experienced before, and they terrify me. Lothos terrifies me and I need Spike’s support to get me through that, especially if I might have to face him.

I huff as Eloise and Geoffrey head outside, I’m still not the witch’s biggest fan at this moment, but I can push down the little green monster, for now, because I want Spike to think I’m a grown up.

…………

My, my, what a kerfuffle. Buffy really is besotted with Spike, but, as I mentioned before, he’s cute and sexy, but he’s not mine. Technically he’s hers, even if he acts like a saint and wouldn’t dare touch her like that. I wonder how he will fair when he returns to his own time and finds he no longer loves the woman he has spent over a century with? The poor vampire will be lost, but he will find his way back to Buffy in some way, I just know he will. They are destined.

I’m somewhat amused by the whole thing, it’s been fun to watch, and I get very little entertainment out here in the back woods. I feel for the girl, I remember having a crush on an older warlock as a child when my mother first introduced me to the coven, his name was Elijah and he was a beautiful specimen of a man, tall, dark and very handsome, and I thought I would love him until the day I died. Then other men came and went, each made me love them in their own way, but I never had a big love, a love that swept me up into its grip like wind in a rising storm and, of course, both Elijah and my mother are long gone, lost to the witch war of my youth, where two powerful local covens vied for this land. Actually, that triggers a memory I long thought I’d buried, the mention of a hellmouth which held dark power, a source so strong it could make a witch invincible and sought so much by the covens, they were prepared to die for it.

I tell Geoffrey of this newly recalled information.

“But this is the breakthrough we’ve been seeking, dearest.” He forgets himself and hugs me tightly, blushing and stepping away just as quickly, his scent is delectable and suddenly becomes my favourite smell. I know it’s going to take some time before this man breaks and comes to me, but I’m willing to wait for him to realise his true path does not lay with the lord, but as a watcher and demonologist he is destined to become in time, I read that in my runes this morning, but I won’t tell him, he needs to find his own way.

“I may have some books hidden away in my secret place we may look through, I think I roughly remember the dates.” I tell him as he composes himself, muttering unneeded apologies.

“Buffy, Spike, Eloise has remembered something important about the hellmouth, she has books.” Geoffrey tells them, the blush still high on his cheeks.

“Ah, and now for me to reveal my secret weapon.” I tell them as I walk towards my underground hide, pulling open the cover of branches with twigs and leaves woven into it. Nobody would spot it unless they knew it was there. I note the sharp-eyed vampire looks as shocked as the others as he grins from the doorway of the wood shed.

In the ground I used magic to dig a space the size of the lower floor of the cottage. It is split into two rooms, one containing a table and stools, another with a bed, should I ever need it. The entrance is at the beginning of the tunnel leading to the rooms carved from mud and clay, this keeps any light invisible from the ground above. I light a torch and urge them to follow, chuckling as Spike runs across the garden with his coat pulled over his head. I allow him to take the torch and go first, so he can get out of the sunlight quicker.

“Wow.” I hear him say as he ventures further inside, and glow comes from the room, he must’ve lit the lamps.

I’m most proud of my hide, as goddess knows I’ve needed it. A woman living on her own in the woods is in need of protection when certain visitors decide to come calling, even with magic such as mine. Not everyone is as understanding as the monk and most would have me drowned in the town millpond if they could catch me. The locals do not understand me and do not wish to understand the blessings of mother earth, and it’s to their detriment as I have the skill to prepare medicinal herbs and cures which would benefit them.

I’m long over trying to make those people like me, as long as they leave me be I’m more than content without them.

………..

Oh, my saviour! I touched her, I touched Eloise and pulled her to my breast, and she felt so at home there I almost gasped. I should go and pray, to beg forgiveness for my sins, but somehow in her presence this doesn’t seem to matter. She is too pure to be influencing me and drawing me away from my god, so I can only blame these feelings of my own weakness as a man of the cloth. I am an abomination, but I can’t bring myself to care as I brush past the swell of her hips in the compact space.

“Oh, my lord, Spike, you are right, this place is a sight to behold.” I run my fingertips over the spines of the leather-bound tomes on the bookcase and notice Buffy and Spike looking inside a wooden chest, intricately carved out of oak. Some words in Latin are written on the side and I speak them out loud, “Ego aperiam tantum ii qui mundo sunt corde.”

“I will only open for the pure of heart.” Spike speaks up. The vampire has certainly risen in my estimations. “The fruits of a British University Education.” He states.

I have no idea what that means, but in this time, only the religious or scholars knew how to speak Latin, and I am very impressed. Spike looks at both me and Eloise as if he can’t believe he was the one to open it. I realise the vampyre does not consider himself pure of heart. Neither do I, but I think perhaps Spike is the closest a creature of the night will ever get to it. ““Blessed are the _pure_ in _heart_ , for they shall see God.” I mutter. Spike clearly hears me with his enhanced listening skills and gives me an odd look before tutting and muttering something about utter tosh as he looks back inside the chest.

“There are weapons, lots and lots of weapons.” Buffy exclaims, pulling out a mace in one hand and a flair in the other. Each weapon is carved with symbols that I can only think are magical in origin, as they are nothing like I’ve ever seen before. Spike draws a longsword from inside the chest with a look of awe, the highly polished, glinting steel is almost the same height as he is.

“They are weapons I have collected over the years, many from the last witch war, but some I have reconditioned from human wars and conflicts. I know a warlock, who knows someone in the Kings Guard, he helps me procure these weapons. It’s a fair exchange.”

I can only imagine what she has swapped with the warlock and jealousy crawls from my gut into my throat. Eloise gives me a knowing look and I remember the witch can read my arura.

“He has bunions.” She whispers with a passive smile, “I make a potion for him, using calendula. Even warlocks have problem feet, and he’s a busy man.”

I feel hysteria rush through me and begin to laugh, staggering to the table and sitting down heavily on a stool. Eloise is an amazing ally to have, she is funny, intelligent and beautiful, and she also plans for every eventuality.

She shakes her head and walks to the chest, taking out a heavy looking crossbow, and placing it onto the table.

“Spike, there is also a hide in the giant oak next to the cottage, it has a platform large enough for two. Rack won’t arrive until sundown with the Kings Guard, as is his way, the guard will likely be drunk and easy pickings, so I suggest you and Buffy set yourself up there with a crossbow each.” She pulled across a sheet to reveal a long slit which ran the length of the underground hide, with enough room to fire weapons at anyone above. “Geoffrey and I will remain down here, I will bind Rack and then Spike and I will interrogate him regarding what he knows of Lothos. Once we have that information we’ll be able to make a plan on what to do next.”

“Why do you get to interrogate Rack? What about me?” Buffy blurts out, looking a little peeved.

“Now, now, none of that, pet. Eloise and I are skilled in torture techniques, an’ they’re not something I want you white hats learning, you have your own skills, you’ll have no need to do things like this to get your way.” Spike soothes her.

“Spike’s right,” Eloise agrees, “Rack won’t break easily, and Spike and I are the only ones for the job. Rack could use any emotion you feel against you, it’s what he does, sends you spinning off into space with no idea where or who you are.”

……………………

I remind myself that I was going to act more like an adult than a spoiled child when Eloise and Spike paired off together. What they planned to do sounds wrong and kind of icky, and they’re right, perhaps I don’t need to be involved. Spike called me a white hat, and I think it must be some sort of British saying, maybe that’s what they wear when they go play cricket or golf?

I feel that Rack being here is going to be far worse than I realised. I thought Eloise would deal with him with her Abracadabra powers and he’d just go away. I thought that’s why Geoffrey brought us here, but now there’s going to be shooting people with crossbows and hiding in trees, it’s all gotten a little too real for me. I’m a vampire slayer, apparently. I slay vampires, and probably demons, no one ever said anything about shooting soldiers or fighting warlocks and I really don’t feel ready for any of it. In fact, I’m beginning to panic, the air in this bunker is oppressive and I feel like I can’t breathe.

“Spike!” I utter breathlessly, staggering a moment as I feel a change in my body, somethings coursing through my veins, something I can’t control, and feel like I’m going to hyperventilate. Spike takes my arm and leads me to a stool.

“Tell me whats wrong, pet.” He sounds worried and I can tell you, I’m terrified. Whats happening to me?

Eloise calls for calm, as Geoffrey and Spike begin to get worked up, hissing at each other over how best to care for me.

“Wait, I see a change in her arura. Just give me a moment…” She watches the space above my head. “Oh, oh, my, it’s beautiful, and it certainly explains a lot.” She says, with a look of wonder on her face.

“What? Will someone tell me what the bloody hell is happenin’ to my, err, to her.” Spike yells, beginning to pace in anxiety.

“What do you see, Eloise? Please tell us.” Geoffrey asks.

“I think I’d like to know too.” I ask weakly.

“Her power, she has come into her power, she has become what she was always destined to be, and it is breath-taking.” The witch gushes.

“Yeah, I’m not with the breath, and I feel less than awesome right now.” I tell her.

“This is unprecedented.” Geoffrey grabs some parchment along with a quill and begins to write. What the hell is he doing at a time like this? Writing his damn memoirs? It turns out I’m not far wrong.

Spike takes my hands and grins, “Our little girl is all grown up.”

“W-what?” I ask again, still feeling woozy.

“The watchers recording this for prosperity, it’s something he’s never experienced before, the chosen one becoming, well, the chosen one.” Spike tells me.

“I think Buffy and I need to practice some breathing techniques while you two look for anything on the hellmouth in my books.” Eloise leads me by the hand out into the sunlight and once I feel the warmth on my skin and the fresh breeze, I feel more with it. I feel alive and stronger than I’ve ever felt. I stride over to a pile of uncut wood, pick up the axe and begin chopping wood, once huge lump after another, the axe slicing through them like butter. I know men as big as lumberjacks would struggle to cut them with anywhere near this finesse or efficiency and I look around for something else to work with.

I lift a fallen tree that’s at least twelve feet high and three feet thick from the clearing, placing it to one side, and I feel Eloise’s eyes on me.

“Congratulations on your new-found strength, Buffy, you are now a force to be reckoned with, but with power comes great responsibility. You must control yourself and I will show you how, if you will allow me?”

She sits on the grass with her legs crossed, buddha style and I sit before her, then she takes my hands in hers and closes her eyes, taking deep breaths. I do the same. I don’t know if Buddha is around in these times, but perhaps she’s some kind of yogi, like at the exercise studio mom goes to, mom told me it’s not the bear but a yoga instructor.

“O’ mother whose essence lays in all nature, illuminate so I may see with the light of your eyes, embrace me with thy wholeness. From thy sacred chalice I am nourished and restored by your strength, wisdom and loving peace.” She chants.

I don’t know what to do so I watch her and eventually she stops, opening her eyes with a smile.

“The goddess is the guide within us all, Buffy, and you don’t need to know her to accept her, you just need to close your eyes and concentrate. Can you hear the soft barks of the fox deep in the woods as it calls for its mate? Or the insects scuttling through the undergrowth, their wings and tiny feet rubbing together, or even the soft flutter of the heart of the tiniest bird as it lands on the canopy above?”

I continue to take deep breaths and find that yes, I can hear those noises, my hearing seems keener than ever. I hear mice squeak under the woodshed as the gnaw at the wood. It is surreal. I have power and enhanced senses. Cool.

She rises. “Keep your eyes closed and I will walk as silently as I can. You must find me, once you’ve counted to ten, Buffy, test your other senses, use your nose to reach for my scent, think of where I may move to, listen for my steps, however soundless they might be. Learn to not only rely on sight.”

I reach out as she moves, using another sense, like maybe a sixth sense, it’s like everything comes together in my mind at once. I finish my counting and I stand, walking right to her. I know she is ten feet away, I know there is a large log in front of her, and I step right over it.

Eloise jumps up and down with glee, and I laugh along with her as she spins me around in circles.

“Now, let’s see what else you can do.” She says, and I don’t think this is a game I’ll tire of easily.

…………………….

It’s been a bloody long, but productive day. The watcher and I found some info on the reasons the covens went into battle over the hellmouth. It was a sacred site, known by all but only the elder coven lived nearby and protected it. Some woman called Evanora was the leader of the elder coven, and she banished some witch called Alizon for practicing dark magic. Anyway, to cut a long story short, she came back with her own band of witches and tried to take the sacred land for her own, portae inferi, or in Latin, the mouth of hell, and a battle commenced which left all but a few still alive.

I reckon Eloise isn’t telling us everything, as she is the descendant of Evanora and some warlock named Anu, both hugely powerful and capable of taking the others down with not much trouble. The book said they were poisoned by a bottle of mead disguised as a gift from another from the sacred coven, and without them the war for the scared land was almost lost to Alizon. Eloise has to know all this, so why would she hide it from us?

“Geoffrey, mate, I can tell you I’m not sure about all this. How can Eloise not know this stuff? She has it here on her own bookshelf, the bint lives alone so you can’t tell me she gets no time to read?” I voice.

Geoffrey looks a little pale once he finishes reading. “I don’t know, Spike, it does seem that the power from the hellmouth could make her one of the most omnipotent witches in the world, but yet she has chosen to shun it, and even forget what she knows about it. I don’t know what to think.”

I hear hooves in the distance. “That’ll have to be it for now, Geoffrey, looks like its play time.”

I grab a dagger, and a short sword—the long sword was impressive, but no good for what we’ll be doing tonight—plus two crossbows and two quivers, heading up the passage to the outside. I’m starving and I sodding hope one of these gits bleed tonight, I could do with a good meal.

Eloise is heading down with a tray of food, followed by Buffy carrying a jug of liquid.

“No time for that, they’re coming, they’re still about a mile away, but it won’t take ‘em long to get here.”

Eloise carries the food and drink to the bunker regardless, and Buffy follows me to the cottage. I search for any spirits Eloise has in the house and fill my pockets with anything which smells remotely like them. I rush to the fire and grab some charcoal. “Here, use that to cover your face, you know like soldiers do in the movies.” She peers into a mirror and draws the lines carefully over her face and looks at me with a grin. “Right, that’s it, love, now do me.” I feel her breath on my lips as she stands on tip toes to draw on my face, and I hold my breath, I can’t take the distraction of her filling my senses right now.

Once she’s finished, I peer down at her dress, that won’t bloody do at all for fighting and climbing trees. I get down on my knees behind her and rip her skirt right up the middle and then move to do the front.

She lets out a squeak, “Hey! What in the hell do you think you’re doing! This is my only damn dress!”

“Oh, for fucks sake! Do you fancy climbin’ up a twenty-foot tree in those skirts? Cause if you do, be my bloody guest. You’ll break your sodding neck, an’ the where’ll we be?”

“Alright, I’ll do it myself!” She huffs and pulls back to finish ripping the material, then she lifts the loose parts and tucks them into her knickers.

“There, was that so hard?”

“Well, you could warn a girl before you start ripping her clothes off.” She’s flushing a lovely shade of cerise when she realises what she’s just said and I just smirk.

“Come on then, let’s go get in place, those bastards will be here soon, and we need to be hidden, not caught like two naughty monkeys climbing the tree.”

She giggles at that, and I hand her a dagger, a quiver and a crossbow which she slings over her shoulder using the leather strap.

Eloise is waiting for us with Geoffrey outside the hide. I can see Geoffrey stare at Buffy’s legs with a look of distain, but he must understand why she can’t wear the dress because he doesn’t mention it.

“I’ll gather my ingredients for the spell to bind Rack, lock up the house and put out the fire. Don’t do anything until you get my signal, it’ll be a red flash of light down on the ground. I may be able to bind them all, but if there are too many, that’s where you’ll come in, you’ll need to aim well from up there. Whatever happens, no one must escape, we can’t have more looking here for Rack or the missing soldiers, not until we find somewhere safe to go.”

Everyone nods in agreement, and Geoffrey steps forward, placing a hand on Buffy’s shoulder. “Do not take any risks, Buffy, you have your power now, but you are still much untrained, do not do anything dangerous. Spike, I’m counting on you to protect her.” He informs me as if I don’t know that already.

“Look, mate, as I’ve said before, you’re preachin’ to the converted, it’s what I do. We need to get goin’ I don’t know how long it’ll take little miss chosen to climb that tree in those bloody skirts.”

It didn’t take long for Buffy to follow me up the tree and she arrived in the hide, a small wooden platform, a bit like a tree house, without the house part, covered with branches and a small hole for viewing the ground below. Eloise was like some kind of witch commando, crossed with a girl scout, her motto, be bloody prepared.

Buffy settled in behind me, her warm hand on the top of my arm and her chin rested on my shoulder as she peered below, trying to catch her breath after the long climb.

“Rest your crossbow on this notch, I use my dagger to make a groove, “Keep it balanced there and do not drop it. I have a few plans of my own, mainly a couple of poor man’s grenades and my fangs if we need ‘em. You need to be quick, shoot, reload, lock, shoot again, got it?”

“I’ve got it.” She replies, picking up her crossbow and practicing reloading it, before peering down the sight to check her aim.

I hope Eloise is true to her word, because our little band doesn’t stand a chance if she fails. I don’t relay my last contingency plan to Buffy. If we get overrun, me and her are gone, we’ll leave the others behind if we have to because I can’t risk my charge.


	10. Chapter 10

[](https://imgur.com/8HjgSVO)

I know the little bitch is hiding here somewhere, I just need to find her.

“Sir Rack, there’s no sign of anyone here, but the hearth is warm, they can’t have gone far.”

I’ve given the guards enough information regarding the mission as I dare. I can’t imagine they’d be very happy about some guy from the future leading them around, seeking out witches and supernatural beings, but so far, they follow orders so I’m not too concerned. I managed to drag them from the local tavern before they got too drunk on the piss-water they call beer in this godforsaken place, and before they headed upstairs with the local whores, who were pretty little things mainly, where the pox hadn’t ruined their faces. I decided I was not going there, I don’t even know how I’d explain the disease at the local STI clinic once I got home.

We found nothing at the monk’s cottage as I suspected. The guy had packed up and left quickly and the place looked like a hurricane had hit it. Clothes and books were strewn everywhere, the fire was left to burn cold and not set for a fire on his return. I found hair though, on the small cot, blonde hair, some short, some long and both definitely not natural, I could feel the bleach clinging to the strands as I ran my fingertips over them, so I know I’m seeking Buffy and possibly another blonde from our time.

Where could the pretty witch be? I begin singing under my breath and dismount my horse, walking around to the front of the cottage. _“Come out, come out, wherever you are and meet the young lady, who fell from a star._ _She fell from the sky, she fell very far and Kansas, she says, is the name of the star.”_

I feel someone is watching me, so I begin to search the nearby woodland, kicking aside the brambles, still whistling the tune to myself. I can’t even remember why I know the song, I probably heard it on the radio sometime. Now, where could the little whore be? She must be a whore, living alone out here in the woods, waiting for a passing man to give it to her good. Hmm, perhaps I’ll give that a miss if she offers it, remembering the pox. Now magic under torture, that’s something I can take from her, she radiated with power but that’s not to say I can’t take it. These archaic idiots don’t know their left from right, so I can’t say it’ll be too difficult.

The guards begin to ransack the house, taking any alcohol they can find, and I see one man dancing around with a white petticoat, swigging from a vial of liquid, all the other men whistling and hooting like imbeciles. I wonder if he’s taken a love potion, what an idiot. I can feel her, why can I feel her? She must be close as her signature magic envelops this place.

“Stop fucking around and search the place properly!” I yell at them, “Search the eaves, the grounds, don’t leave a stone unturned!”

………………………..

“I see them!” I say excitedly in Spike’s ear, and he clenches his jaw looking annoyed.

“Yeah, my eyes are working as well as yours, love, no need to hiss in my ear like a bloody snake.”

I know I’m pouting, but Spike can be such a drag sometimes. We’ve been waiting for what seemed like hours for the soldiers to come and Spike didn’t say a word the whole time.

“Ooh, pretty horses.” I say under my breath. I like them, they’re like those giant stallions on that TV show my mom used to watch when I was little, um, Dallas, I think.

Spike closes his eyes and I know he’s heard me and is totally not interested. I move with care, watching the men down the sight of my crossbow as they break into Eloise’s home below. “Can I shoot them yet?” I whisper in his ear.

“No! Christ, are you ever quiet, woman?” He splutters, tensing and moving inches away from me.

I frown. Is anything I ever do, right? I’m not going to answer him, in fact, I’ve decided to never speak to him again. He’s upset me and he’s a pig, I think resentfully.

“Keep your aim trained on them and do as I say, Slayer.” He mutters.

What the actual hell? Now he’s calling me Slayer? He can’t even call me by my own name? I sulk further while watching below, tempted to let an arrow fly and kick things off, just to spite him. I scratch the back of my leg with the toe of my crappy ancient shoes. Why does Spike get to keep his boots when I have to wear something that barely keeps my feet warm?

After a few minutes he edges closer, wrapping his body around mine and easing my crossbow slightly towards the front of the house. “See that guy?” He means the drunk one dancing with Eloise’s underwear, I bite my lip not to smile at the stupid guy. “Take him first, once the witch gives us her signal.”

His voice is so close to my ear, I shudder as his breath wafts over my neck. How the hell am I supposed to concentrate while he’s so close? He doesn’t move, his crossbow is rested on my shoulder and I can feel his hard body against my back. I swallow profusely but my throat has gone so dry it feels like attempting to swallow sand. He said take him, does he mean kill the guy? I move my aim to the man’s legs, I’m not going to kill, just because Spike tells me to.

Time seemed to slow while we waited, all I could feel was his leisurely breath on my neck and I wondered if Eloise would ever give the damn signal. I’m trying to stay away from Spike, to not think of him as the sexiest piece of—Oh Shit! There it is! Eloise’s flare. I let my arrow fly without thinking, barely seeing Spike’s fly by my head from the corner of my eye, hearing it slice through the air by my head with a crack. I barely see the man with the petticoat go down with an arrow in his leg before reloading and Spike’s moving, his leg propped on the wooden bar of the hide and taking aim, shooting off arrows quicker than me. I fumble to reload, my fingers feeling like thumbs, the wire digging into their pads. After setting off the second arrow I seem to develop a rhythm, shoot, reload, lock, shoot again, just like Spike taught. Not all hit a target, but I don’t have enough time to worry about that.

………………

There isn’t much time to watch how the bints getting on, but she seems to be doing alright, she’s taken down four to my seven, but hers are all superficial wounds, mine are kill shots to the chest head and kidneys.

“Don’t just bloody wound the bastards, they’ll bloody tear your heart out if they get hold of you!” I can’t help but yell, but I know she has no intention of killing anyone, that’ll fall to those who have the stomach for it, like me and Eloise.

It doesn’t really matter, as Eloise has taken the rest down, toppling them like dominoes using her magic and Rack is resisting her, fighting back and aiming spells at the underground hide once he realises where the spells are coming from. He’s closing in on the underground shelter, so I shoot him through the thigh. He looks right at me as he falls, landing heavily on one knee, sending an angry firebolt whistling through the air, and it crashes through the wood of the hide, causing me to fall backwards onto my arse and knocking Buffy to the floor. I watch her begin sliding towards the edge of the shattered floor as it dips by thirty degrees. She lets go of her crossbow and yells my name and I reach out to her, trying to grab her fingers before she falls, her hand clinging to the edge as pieces of burning wood shatter and burn around her. It’s my worst nightmare come to fruition and I’ve had some sodding nightmares, I tell you. She struggles to keep her grip when I move, and I know it’s going to take a miracle for me to get to her as the floor canters. Her eyes plead with me, wide with terror, her mouth open and saying something I can’t hear through the noise of the magic below and the roar of burning wood surrounding us.

Fire. Shit. I’ll burn faster than a rag soaked in petrol if I try to get to her, I close my eyes and remember what it feels like to smell burning flesh. Angelus and his burning nuns, their screams from inside the barricaded convent in France, and his face as he watched them with sadistic glee.

“Buffy, hold on, love, please, hold on!” I hear someone scream, is it me? Fuck, fuck, she’ll die if I can’t get to her.

……………………………

Rack thinks he’ll take my magic, drain me. He no longer thinks I’m good enough to copulate with, that I’m diseased and I laugh as I focus on him, I would die before allowing the likes of him to touch me. I wait as long as I can while Spike and Buffy reign vengeance down from above. It isn’t lost on me that someone is shooting to kill, while the other clearly isn’t. That someone is obvious in their intent, what else would one expect of him? He’s a killer by nature.

Geoffrey is chomping at the bit to fight, but I repeatedly tell him to hold back. Neither of us need to do anything as the guard topple before us. I’m proud of Buffy, she’s doing well, despite only finding out she’s come into her power.

I concentrate, using the Latin spells of my forebears to begin to bind Rack, pausing momentarily to let the signal shoot through the slit in the underground hide and muttering the spell as I keep him pinned, agony shooting through his veins, his neck reddening angrily as his back arches. There is some resistance, but this warlock believes he has power to match mine and he is sorely mistaken.

An arrow pierces his leg and somehow it allows him to discharge a bolt of fire towards the trees. I cannot concern myself with Buffy and Spike. The vampire is skilled in the art of warcraft and Buffy is powerful in her own right, they are warriors. I have to hope they are able to take care of themselves for if I drop my guard, we are all dead.

……………………….

My brain is screaming, oh god, I’m going to die, I’m only fifteen, I don’t want to die! Oh god, oh god, oh god. “Help me! Spike, please help me, I’m gonna fall!”

His mouth is moving but I can’t hear him through the blood rushing through my ears and the crackle and roar of fire as he edges closer. The platform falls another few inches with his weight and he backs off while I scream some more.

His eyes focus on mine and he uses his two fore fingers to point first to my eyes and then back to his. Focus. He means focus. He points to his waistband as he holds on to the branches of the tree, he’s trying to tell me something. I try to centre my mind, what can he mean? I don’t know. All I do know is that I’m hanging by my bloody and splintered fingertips from the edge of the platform and if the wood splits or breaks under my weight I will drop twenty feet to my death.

He’s still talking, and his eyes are begging me to understand, my legs are swinging freely below me, and I can’t even get purchase on a branch with my feet, I don’t dare look down as my focus will be lost. My focus is him. If I die, I’ll never see him again, and how can I live without him? I won’t die here in the past where nobody apart from him will ever know remember me.

Something registers, a fleeting thought within the chaos, the knife, he means the dagger his has in his waistband. Focus, I tell myself as I see him take the dagger in hand and move carefully to place it at his feet, his fingers holding it steady as he tries not to rock the platform.

He looks into my eyes for permission and I nod before he lets it go. We both watch its speedy progress towards me and I lash out with my left hand to catch it, clinging for dear life with my right I raise my arm swiftly and stab it into the wood, gaining purchase immediately. I pull myself towards a crack in the planks and place my fingers in the gap, before testing it to see if it will break away. It feels sturdy, so I allow my arm to stab the dagger into the wood again. I’m closer, and his boots are only inches away. I have strength, I can do this, I won’t die here, and that bastard Rack is going to pay for this! I feel rage strum through my body and I use the dagger once again to haul myself forward. I’m the Slayer, I don’t need anyone and any man I choose will be my equal! This power is for me because I’m the chosen one and Spike won’t always be there to protect me, I tell myself. I reach Spike’s boots and stab the dagger in between his feet, hoisting myself up without his help.

He gulps and looks at where the dagger finally entered the platform, an inch from the toe of his boot. His hand left reaches out and tries to grasp me as I crouch and then stand before him. His face changes when he sees my look of triumph, he looks proud, but he has no need. Gone is the little girl and now here stands the Slayer. I feel power radiate through me. I did it. I dragged myself back from the brink of death, alone and I tell myself I will always carry a dagger in my waistband from this day onward, because I can’t always rely on anyone else to save me when I should be saving them or staking them. I know I will forever be indecisive regarding Spike, I realise that now I’ve watched him kill, and my heart feels like its about to break as sparks rain down behind him, his eyes ignited with flames. I think he knows it too.

………………………….

Buffy has disappeared, and there seems no way to find her. She hasn’t returned to her parents’ house, and it’s been three days since I saw her enter the elevator with the Vampire. I now know he was a vampire because I watched his paramour for hours as she fretted at his loss, before feeding on a woman in the back of a doll shop at the mall.

Then I followed her and watched as minions helped the mentally broken vampire into their hide, an old hotel in the slum district. 

It is my job to ensure the Slayer returns untouched, and I know vampires often have a link. I can’t be sure the female is the male’s lover or whether one is the others sire, so I hold back my urge to stake her. If she is lost and the vampire with her feels it, he may kill my Slayer, that’s if she’s not already dead. I’ve left one minion to care for the female and staked the others as they tried to re-enter the hotel before dawn, their minds addled by blood lust and engorgement. It is against everything I stand for to allow them to hunt, but I will bear my wrath on them, or the Slayer will, once she returns.

People are beginning to talk of her loss. Her parents aren’t as distraught by her disappearance as I would expect, and her friends continue to babble in the strange teenage language I’m not sure I will ever understand, such silly and distracted young women who have no idea of the dangers which flit through the night.

There is a prophesier I have had dealings with in the next state, but I need an item of Buffy’s to take to him, so I wait in the darkness of the trees near the Summer’s home, waiting for them to leave.

“Do you think we should ground her when she comes home, darling? I mean, she has stayed with her friends without calling.” Buffy’s mother asked her father as they walked towards their shiny white BMW.

“Did you check the answer machine?” He asked as he unlocked the car.

“No, I haven’t, oh, I’m sure she’s fine, honey, if she hasn’t come home by the morning, we’ll call her friends.”

“Do you know who to call?” Buffy’s father asked.

“Oh, she’s always got new friends, I’ll call the school if she doesn’t turn up.”

I cannot believe those two people were allowed to be parents at all. The girl is fifteen and may not have been seen for three days. I would like to cheerfully beat them both to death for their idiocy. Of course, I’m only being ironic, but they deserve it for their terrible parenting.

As soon as they leave, I walk to the front door and try it. Of course, it’s open, and my Slayer could be murdered in her bed by a stranger if it were left to her incompetent parents. Things will have to change once she returns home.

It doesn’t take long to find Buffy’s bedroom, I have learned that teenage girls have a penchant for the sweetest scented perfume and I can smell it down the hall on the second floor.

I move to the door and push it open with my boot, taking the torch out of my coat and surveying the room. I spot a silver jewellery box and head right there. Inside I find a silver cross pendant on a silver chain. Good girl, this is perfect for what I need.

……………

The watcher thought I wouldn’t notice if he staked my minions. I haven’t existed undead for one hundred and thirty years without being observant. I have my moments and the pain I must endure from the brutes of Prague leads me into oblivion more often, but my William tends to me when he thinks I live in my other world and that calms me. My William is lost to me, for now, but I know he dwells where sunshine resides, and he will return, he’s unable to take true happiness with the Slayer, the morality he has somehow retained all these years chokes him. Still, I will enjoy being the one who spurs him on to kill her upon his return, he will never disobey his sire. Miss Edith comforts me while he takes his leave, her tea parties provide such excellent company. William not returning angers me but my sweet and careful minion, Charles, feeds and cares for me and I know the Watcher will not end him while he waits for my William to return with the Slayer. The Watcher believes I know of their fate, which, of course I do, to some degree.

The engine of the car in which Charles has driven me is puttering as we watch the Slayers home.

I cannot kill the Watcher but there’s nothing to stop me from feeding from the drunken parents when they return home in the early hours.

……………………..

I lead her to the ground as the trees burn above us, showering glittering stars above and climbing onto branches she can’t see with her human eyesight. She doesn’t really need my help and that’s one hard and brutal lesson I’ve been taught this night. I watched the determination in her face as she saved herself with little help from me. She was never going to be another Nikki Wood, or Xin Rong, not that I planned for her to be really, I’d fallen for her before the ex-Slayers even entered my mind. She was never going to let death in any disguise defeat her, was never going to allow herself to die before she had the chance to live. Sometimes I wonder if I really want to live forever, when the sweet moment I’ve experienced with her can’t happen and I don’t dare think how things could be in my future with Dru if I do.

I take her hand when we reach the bottom of the tree and, as she takes it, she turns to me and gives me a knowing smile. I’ve lost her. She may have accepted me and understood who I was before she climbed the tree. There’s nothing I can so about the fact Buffy went up the tree as a child and returned a woman and a warrior.


	11. Chapter 11

[](https://imgur.com/8HjgSVO)

Soldiers lay at my feet, some groaning, some clearly already dead. I hope it wasn’t me who did the killing, but I suppose I didn’t really have a choice. As Spike said, it was kill or be killed in this situation.

It feels like I’m seeing the world with new eyes, since my almost death. It’s a strange feeling, losing control like that, my life hanging by a thread, but I made it back and I feel power coursing through me. I suddenly feel so much more focussed, like I know who and what I am now, its empowering but terrifying at the same time. Power radiates through me with nowhere to go and I know I’ll need to learn to channel it. 

I feel Spike’s eyes on me, he knows I’ve changed, knows I’m no longer the little girl he met in the elevator, I’m so much more than that now and I’m eager to find out what my limits are. First things first, Eloise and Geoffrey need our help.

Eloise has Rack bound and hovering above the ground, his face is contorted in pain as his glowing red magical bindings pull tighter around his restrained arms and legs. I wish I could feel sorry for the pain guy’s in, but from what I hear he’s a total sleaze and he deserves everything he gets.

Geoffrey runs towards us and takes me into his arms, “Thank the lord you are well, Buffy, I saw you fall, I really thought, err, I-I—Never mind, you’re safe now.” He seems to recover himself and steps back with a blush, like he lost control of himself for a moment. The poor guy has only just lost Agnes so he’s not at his best. It’s kind of nice that he was so worried about me, there aren’t many in my life who care at all, in fact I can count them on one hand. I don’t suppose my parents have recovered from their hangovers enough yet to even notice I’ve gone.

“I thought I was gonna fall, but I managed to make it back, with a little help of course.” I turn and give Spike a nod and a half smile, but he doesn’t meet my eye. I wonder if he thinks he’s failed me in some way? I’ll have to find the time to tell him, once we’re alone that he did me a favour, he helped me find the Slayer inside myself, even if it was in the most terrifying of circumstances.

My thoughts are interrupted by Eloise, who’s circling Rack with a vicious look upon her face.

“Now then, what shall we do with you?” She asks the floating warlock.

“Let me down, you nefarious bitch!” He snaps back at her.

“Oh, dear me, have I upset the grand warlock? Is he angry that he’s been bound over by little old me?” She taunts.

“You have power, witch, with that I must agree, but you are far from superior to me. I’ll show you once I release myself from your entrapment, I’ll kill you, and I’ll kill your little friends too. I’ll raze your home to the ground, I’ll—”

“Oh, do be quiet!” Geoffrey takes a rag from the pocket of his robe and stuffs it into the surprised warlock’s mouth. He turns to me and smiles wickedly.

“Watcher, you’re getting dangerously close to batting for the other side, mate.” Spike points out.

I can’t help but giggle at the not so evil vampire telling a Monk he’s going to hell.

“Hmm, but not as close to you,” Geoffrey observes, “Anyway, who’s to say I’ll continue to be a man of god, I believe my calling is of another kind now. This girl needs a true Watcher as she is a full Slayer and I wish to dedicate my time to her alone.”

“While she’s here.” Spike said under his breath and I think it was only me who heard. I don’t want to tell Geoffrey not to change his life because I might not be here much longer, although I know I’ll need to have that conversation with him at some point.

“Sorry to interrupt the life guidance session, but some help here?” While we’ve been bantering, an injured soldier has risen and has a dangerously sharp looking dagger to Eloise’s throat.

“Let Sir Rack go now, or I’ll cut off your head, woman!” The soldier demands.

I didn’t think, in fact I’m not actually sure how it happened at all, but I withdrew a stake from my pocket and threw it at the solider. It was almost in slow motion that the knife fell from Eloise’s neck and clattered to the floor. The Soldier was writhing around holding his arm with a ten-inch stake embedded in his shoulder. Look, I’m as surprised as anyone at my actions and Spike breaks the silence by letting out a long breath he must’ve been holding.

“Um, sorry about that, but you threatened my friend and I’m starting to go by the mantra that nobody touches my friends.” I apologise to the soldier, who is wailing in pain.

“Don’t ask that gits forgiveness, you silly moo, be glad you took him out, he’d gut you as soon as look at you with that bloody blade.” Spike’s eyes are dark as he chides me. No doubt it’s the smell of fresh blood causing a look of arousal in his eyes. I have to look away as the thought of any arousal of Spike’s sends a racing shiver down my spine.

“Thank you, for pointing that out, Spike, it wasn’t as if I’d noticed.” I can’t help the sarcastic remark, I’m not stupid, however much of a child I’ve been acting around him up until now, in fact, they all need to know that.

“Oh, we’re back to this now, are we? Well, in future I’ll keep my gob shut and let you get on with it, seeing that you’re all grown up and don’t need me—err—I mean, don’t need my help anymore.”

“That’s fine with me, Spike.” I hiss back.

“Fine.” He replies, raising an eyebrow arrogantly.

“Double fine with cherries on—"

Giles interrupts me just as I’m about to be totally childish and poke my tongue out at Spike. “Children, please, there are more pressing matters at hand.”

And I’m doing it again, acting like I’m seven, what is it about him that brings it out in me? I close my eyes and damp down the urge to throttle Spike. I don’t know how to be around him now. It’s like the power balance has been tipped and I’ve somehow come out as top dog. I don’t want to be some ultimate warrior and I feel like I want to hide away inside his coat like I did the night we arrived, but I can’t, because things have changed too much between us and I’m no child in need of his care anymore. I have a purpose and my mind is centring on that above anything else, I can feel it. This doesn’t mean I don’t want him anymore. In fact, I want him more than ever, but I can’t have him because he won’t have me, so I need to at least try to distance myself and be grown up about it, perhaps less of the tongue poking would be of the good.

“William, let’s go inside, we have some interrogation to do.” Eloise is floating Rack inside and I look around me. Some of the soldiers are still alive and coming around.

“We’d best tie them up and bury the dead, Buffy, we don’t want any more surprises.” Geoffrey is already searching the wood shed for something to bind them with.

I see Spike watching me carefully as he saunters towards the cottage, his coat billowing behind him, and I don’t meet his eye. There’s something about all this that makes it far too painful to look at him. The fact he is exactly what I was born to kill, hurts me far more than I ever thought it would, because even if he could have me, we could never be together. There’s something unnatural about a Slayer and a vampire being together, something forbidden, and I’ve felt it more since I grew into my power. I choke back a sob as I get to work on tying up the soldiers, and if Geoffrey notices a tear slide down my cheek, he doesn’t say anything.

……………………………….

I’m angry because I don’t know how to feel about any of this. I’m a master vamp, I shouldn’t be feeling anything about the Slayer, I should want to bathe in her damn blood, chop her into messes, break her sodding neck like the last one. Suffice to say, this change of events makes it easier for me to find a way to get out of here, get us home and never, ever, see her again. It would be better that way. I’ll take Dru and we’ll leave the country, head to Tumbuk, pissing, Tu, and we’ll feed, and cause chaos and I’ll flip the bird at the Slayer in California while I take the rest of the world.

The thought helps me pull out my game face.

Rack cackles, “Do you think I’m scared of the likes of you, vampire? I’ve seen bigger bad’s here, old ones who’d eat you and your little Slayer for breakfast. In fact, they intend to as soon as my messenger finds them.”

I look at Eloise, “Did you see any of the little blighters get away?”

“That was your job, William, I was rather preoccupied.” She nods her head at Rack.

“Shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit!” I can’t help growling and kicking a wooden stool to smithereens. Eloise looks annoyed but doesn’t say anything. I grasp Rack by the throat, “How long ago did the bastard leave? Tell me or I’ll rip your fucking throat out!”

“Hmm, I can’t be sure, but he’s probably back at the cave by now. He’ll be bringing hellfire to rain down on you, vamp, and your tiny baby Slayer will perish in a river of her own blood!” His face changed from an inane grin to a wicked and vicious look. “They’ll be coming for your Slayer first, she’s the key, and then he’ll rip this one’s entrails out while she watches.” Rack nodded to Eloise.

“Who is it? Who wants the Slayer dead, you tell me or so help me—” I squeeze harder until his eyeballs begin to bulge. That’s fine, he doesn’t need them to get us home, I lift my pocket knife and hold it right in front of his scarred eye, the gesture obvious if he doesn’t comply.

“Geeze, man, you need to take a chill pill. If you were alive, you’d be having a damn coronary. The guy’s name is Lothos, he’s an ancient vampire and he wants her blood for some ceremony. I didn’t stop to ask, the agreement was I just deliver the Slayer for his prophetic crap, but somehow you came through with her and fucked it all up, vampire.”

I’m baying for his blood right now, I’ve never wanted to kill anyone as much as this idiot. So, it is true, I was never meant to be here at all and Buffy probably would’ve died her first night here. I want to kill him more now. “What prophecy!” I demand, my face so close to his I can hear the thrum of his blood racing within his carotid artery. I want to kill him, but I remember he’s the one who sent us here and we’ll need him to get us home, more’s the pity.

“Somethings about the Hellmouth opening when her bloods spilled, I have to say I’m not really bothered, I’ve done my part.” Rack spits out through gritted teeth.

“If you weren’t needed, I’d rip your bloody head off, you fucking ponce!” I move to the windows to check the light; the sun is setting low enough for me to leave and get on this soldiers’ tail before he gets to the cave. Lucky for Rack I already know which cave, so no further effort is required on my part. The witch, however, has an evil streak in her, and I don’t know what plans she has for him, nor do I care if she keeps him alive. There’s no light without darkness, so they say, ying and yang and all that bollocks.

Getting to the door I go to leave, and Eloise stops me by placing a ball in my hand. “You’ll know what to do with this when the time comes.” She covers my hands with her own, “Be safe.”

I eye Rack once more and run out the door.

………………………………………

Spike runs past and into the woods, “Spike?” I call after him, but he doesn’t stop.

“Buffy, we have work to do.” Geoffrey calls out, but I can’t let Spike go off alone, not when there could be more soldiers. I run faster, my heart banging in my chest, my legs carrying me lightning fast. It feels good to run and stretch out my legs a little, but not so good when I realise, I’ve no idea where I am.

I hear horse’s hooves and peer into the twilight, I can see the silhouettes of horses but not the faces or clothing of the men. Some in the distance are carrying torches but not close enough for me to see through the forest. You’d have thought when I was given these skills, they might’ve at least included x-ray vision or something, or flying, like superman.

A hand clamps over my mouth and I stifle a scream as I’m pulled back into the bushes.

“You’re about as quiet as a bloody bull in a china shop, love.” A familiar voice whispers in my ear. His proximity makes me shiver, and his arms around me feel right, so much so I want to meld into him and never let go.

“Who are they?” I murmur, trying to ignore the feel of his breath on the fine hairs at the nape of my neck. Focus, Buffy! That’s a little difficult when he drops his hands to my waist. He probably doesn’t mean anything by the gesture, but it sure feels intimate. I bite my lip and try to breathe evenly.

“Villagers, they’re out searching for predators, you know, wolves and such. Somethings been eating their livestock and its likely hungry vamps trying to stay incognito.”

I watch as the lights seem to head off in another direction, far from the cottage and move out of Spike’s grasp, I’m too close to him, he’s all I can feel surrounding me. I turn to continue our conversation and find his face is bare inches away from mine, and in the low light, his blue eyes almost glow with alarming intensity. I can’t help but gulp. My throats feels like sandpaper, and my heart is hammering so fast I think I might pass out.

He reaches his hand up to caress my cheek with the pad of his thumb and he startles me from a dreamlike state as he speaks. Why does he have to be so gorgeous? Why can’t I just be a few years older? Dammit, I’m blushing, I know I am, I can feel the heat in my cheeks.

“Buffy.” His words float from his lips like a prayer and his eyes are mesmerising. “Buffy, I want you to know—”

A twig snaps nearby and I freeze as a flock of sleeping birds awake, twittering their annoyance as they surge into the sky above. Shit.

The moment is gone as we both crouch down behind a thick oak tree. The hair on the back of my neck prickles and I reach for my stake.

There are at least three vamps and I nudge Spikes shoulder with mine. “Don’t get in my way.” It sounds harsher than I meant. I merely wanted to suggest that I may not be as practiced at my calling as I could be yet, and I didn’t want him to get hurt by accident.

His eyes bored into mine, tinged with misunderstanding and ill-disguised pain. “Right Slayer.”

So, we’re back to Slayer again but there’s no time to ponder that, there’s work to be done.

………………………………………………

Fuck. I nearly kissed her, what in Christ’s name is wrong with me? It was a stroke of luck we had company, or I might’ve done something I’ll regret.

I see the little bastard’s home in on Buffy immediately, clearly with no idea who and what they’re up against. She obviously wants to test her skills, so I hang back, she told me not to get in her way, so I won’t. I take out my knife and lean back against the tree, cleaning my fingernails with the tip and watching her from under my lashes. If a little unsteady on her feet, she is glorious in the fight, taking one out almost right away. The other two are closer to her now, one spins her around by the arm and find himself launched ten feet onto a tree stump with a conveniently placed spear of wood. That’s number two.

Number three is left with an advantage as she turns at the wrong moment, and he jumps onto her back, his teeth, close to her neck. I look up sharply, readying myself to step in, only to see she now has him on the ground before her, her hand on his throat as she straddles him.

Jealousy surges through me at the scene, I don’t know why, but another vamp between my golden Slayer’s legs is too much to bear.

Keep it together, Spike, I tell myself.

“Who sent you?” She demands, her voice unyielding and filled with strength. I have to say, she is bloody glorious at this moment, formidable, a force to be reckoned with. Beauty and power are an intoxicating combination and she wields it like a Valkyrie.

“Tell me who you are!” The vamp demands.

“Oh, little old me?” The bint is batting her eyelashes like Scarlett O’ sodding Hara, but this vamp has no idea what he’s dealing with. “I’m Buffy, the Vampire Slayer, and you are?”

Something about her speech makes this seem like we’re in some action movie, she couldn’t have picked a better tag line at that moment. Buffy, the Vampire Slayer, that you are, love, that you are. Like in Alien, “In space, no-one can hear you scream.” Except with her its ‘If you’re a vamp, you don’t get time to scream’. I grin at my own joke.

“I am Carrick. We were sent by Lothos to find you and bring you to him.” The vamp seems less certain of himself now he is faced with an irate Slayer.

“Seems his plan went Ker bluey, so I’ll make this simple for you.” She stabs the guy in the chest, coughing and wiping herself down at the mess.

 “The vamps gone and made a mess of your best dress, Slayer.” I chuckle, and she gives me the evil side eye, we both know how much she detests the dress. “Far be it for me to say, but it might’ve been a good idea to ask him where this Lothos’ hideout is.” I cross my arms and give her a shit eating grin.

“Oh, crap.” She says looking forlorn. I feel a little sorry for her, she was doing so well.

“Lucky for you, pet, I know exactly where this guy is with his minions, and I was heading there now to catch up with a messenger sent by Rack. Of course, you’re welcome to join me, there are plenty more dust sandwiches where that one came from.”

She’s scowling at me now, that’s one thing I like about Buffy, she’s as changeable and unpredictable as the damn wind and she’s never able to hide it, the poor cow would be terrible at poker. Must be teenage hormones multiplied ten-fold by Slayer powers. I just walk away, it’s no skin off my nose if she doesn’t join me, with the number of vamps in the cave, I’m fucked with or without her.

……………………………………..

I’ve waited for hours in my car outside the Summers residence. She, the female vampire, I’ve come to know as Drusilla, will know I’m here and take my being here as a challenge.

I’ve tailed her for days, killing off those who follow her and now she has only her protector, a minion barely capable of caring for her and yet she still hankers after the alcoholic pair who I only protect because they are Buffy’s parents.

I’m beginning to wonder if she and the male vampire will ever return to this time, or even if my Slayer is already dead. I have nothing else to do but wait and hope, spending my time protecting her family and killing the scourge who lurk in the shadows, the female sires them almost as fast as I stake them, and they are weaker vampires than I’ve ever seen, such easy targets.

The seer I brought Buffy’s crucifix to gave me only what he could, he knew she had travelled back through time, he knew she was in danger, but he couldn’t tell me if she lived and his foretelling was worse than useless.

I’m so lost in my own thoughts I barely notice Drusilla’s servant knock on my window. I wind it down only enough to listen to what he has to say, my stake at the ready.

“My name is Charles, sir.” He says more politely than I ever expected from one of the undead. “My lady has advised she will come with you without trouble.”

My mind races at the thought, I’ve had the room ready for weeks, down in the bowels of LA in an old, abandoned subway station, I had silver shackles set up at the ready.

“She asks only that she may reside in comfort, to be able to bring me and Miss Edith.” He continues.

Miss Edith? I haven’t seen any other female.

“Miss Edith is her doll, she would be lost without her.” Charles looks woeful at the fact and I wonder if he is saddened by the fact his mistress loves her doll more than he. What the hell am I thinking? I have a vampire at my car window, I shouldn’t be commiserating with him.

I give him directions to the cell. “You will shackle her and await my presence. Here is the key, you will lock the door and pass it under the door once the room is secured.”

Charles nods and takes the key, hissing as its silver burns his hand, and quickly depositing it into his pocket.

“Once I am satisfied that either you or she is no threat to me, you will be released to do as she pleases within the room. I will see to it you are both well fed, with pigs’ blood only, and I may provide some further luxuries. See that she complies. The more compliant she is, the more she will have. Tell her I promise a tea party and music for her dolly, but I shall want to speak with her regarding her mate and I’ll want answers.”

“Spike? Why, yes, of course. My lady speaks of him frequently, you’ll hardly need to ask.” Charles smiles and scurries away.

Spike. Now I at least have a name for the vampire I’m dealing with. If he returns, I shall have Spike’s head on a damn Spike.

I start the car and follow the black Sedan as it draws away, noticing Buffy’s parents have pulled up again and staggered from their car. At least I’ve contained the problem and they remain safe, even if they don’t deserve it, as there still hasn’t been a police report made.


	12. Chapter 12

[](https://imgur.com/8HjgSVO)

"Aramaic is written right to left." I say. I have my sweet witch, Eloise, alone for a moment while she harvests her herbs and Rack shrieks intermittently from inside the cottage. He's bound, but not as well harmed as I thought he might be, following her earlier threats. The warlock deserves an eon of pain and suffering for his dark magic’s, his sin against God and even the natural order of which Eloise stands guard. My nightmares are filled with such as he, men who deserve to burn in hell, no better a man than the pigs slop in an ill kept sty. To protect one such as her I would render him to death on her behalf, only my faith and fortitude holding me back. I have experienced too much loss and too much pain in this life to allow myself to be hanged or burned at the stake for such an act, for collusion with a witch certainly reaps such penance.

Eloise is the most exquisite woman I've ever met in my time on my lords sacred, green earth and even though my vows do not allow me the liberty to gaze upon such beauty (not in the way I have taken to thinking of her) I cannot help myself. My chastity has always been as true as my faith to my god, my saviour and I know any other of my order will berate me for these impure thoughts, I’d most likely spend a week on my knees before the chapel alter. Mostly, other monks joined the order as men and a grown man knows his truth, he knows why he takes holy orders. I, however, have only known the order from a boy, and from becoming an entrusted member of the Council and a confided watcher. It opened my eyes to everything on the outside of my insulated world, the sin, the evil and mostly the beauty in this world.

My Eloise is beauty, strength, liberty and light, and my monastic life, my being one who has partaken in holy orders, signifies restraint, abeyance and avoidance of sacrilegious acts.

To ask what I want of her requires me to know her certitude. I know she has not been truly honest with me and my heart aches because my friend felt she could not divulge the true details to me. I fear Spike was also bothered by the tombs we read of her past and I have learned to entrust some belief in him, he is an anomaly in his race, and I rely on his safekeeping of Buffy. If I am to trust Eloise, I must know the truth.

"Hmm?"

"Aramaic is-"

"I heard you, Geoffrey." 

She does not pause, nor flinch, she knows what I ask of her, but chooses not to reply outright.

I take her gently by the elbow and look into her eyes. They are almost melded with magic, but not of the supernatural kind, no, the kind of magic one experiences when standing beside a cool waterfall, their blue, grey depths sparking from their centre in sun lightened Amber. 

"I do not consider you a fool, Geoffrey, nor someone who, as a learned one, would not take heed of knowledge which was laid out before your eyes. My family, they were ancients, their origins from another time. They began as you did, their religion all taught, easily embraced when one did not think too deeply, it meant death not to follow, that was the way until they defied enforced religion and found Mother Earth to claim her wisdom for their own. I know a wise woman came to this town and she was knowledgeable of our practices before Christ. Why do you think I left my history behind for you to find? It wasn't to keep you from boredom." Her eyes flash and I realise I've disappointed her, like I should have had time to ascertain all this from her books. An afternoon was by no means enough to read such a history.

"The vampire saw it too, although he read the later books in Latin, not the earlier writings." I blurt, and wish I'd kept my peace as she berates me with a roll of her eyes and a sigh. “I just—I felt I couldn’t trust the word of a people who so easily gave up their faith, who traded the word of Christ for a heathen religion, who worshipped a false idol.”

I’ve angered her. Essentially, I’ve called her a godless barbarian by default. I really should know better, she has a wonderous belief in Pagan ways and I should be embarrassed. My work as a watcher bids me to look at all aspects of history, not just what is before my face and I should know that my belief is also unsubstantiated. Yes, I have been an idiot. There’s no way to tell how she feels as she changes the subject instantly, I can’t help feeling something has shifted between us by my utterance of that one word; heathen.

"Ah, our William is not what you think, he need not defend himself to me. On the contrary, he is as much a friend and ally to me as you are, dear Geoffrey. He doesn't, I suspect, have belief in anything, although when I first looked inside him, I realised he was brought up believing in a form of Christianity, it was his mother’s influence, he loved her like no other until he met Buffy. From my investigations, he does not harbour any feelings for me, I'd wager, not like those you do yourself."

My heart almost stops beating. I've been caught out, she knows I have feelings for her, and I gulp as my throat is so dry, I cannot speak but for an unmanly squeak as she takes my hand and places it upon the rose of her cheek. Her skin is softer than the beaten leather my brothers work into purses for rich passing travellers and as my eyes land on her plump lips, their alluring flush as perfect as any ruby in the Bishop’s ring. I know her touch is more than I deserve.

"Geoffrey, I cannot ask you, nor will I ask you to give up your calling. I have not delved into your mind as much as I have the travellers from the future, you are pure, and I have understood that from the first time I met you. I can only tell you your feelings are reciprocated, should you ever decide to return the favour in kind." 

I look to find my traitorous thumb caressing hers of its own accord, our hands bound together like two lovers who know each other intimately. I gasp, drop my hand and close my eyes to my impiety, fighting within myself against the need I have to take this woman into my arms and fall in love with her. The urge to flee and beg the forgiveness of my creator seizes me and if she's concerned by my indecisiveness, she does not show it. There is the barest hint of disappointment in her eyes, yet she quickly recovers and gives me a serene smile. She knows I am not a free man, not a man who can take a woman to his bed as a wife, however much I wish I could be, I am malcontent, but how could I express that to any other? I am a monk and I follow strict orders as a man of god should. Perhaps I should beg forgiveness of the Bishop and enter a closed order? Warring with myself has become a full-time passion of mine recently, and still I come to no definite conclusion. She speaks, and I thank the lord, for it takes me away from my contentious feelings.

"I have hidden my power for a lifetime from those who would seek to see me burn, the combustion of our kind is nothing new to those who do not have the wisdom to seek further enlightenment." She said, turning to pick up a handful of acorns from the ground. Her touch almost burns me as she places them into my hand, her fingers enclosing them within my palm. "For protection, wisdom and personal power,"

Her eyes are warm as she leans forward and plants a sweet kiss on my cheek. "From their fruit grows an almighty oak, its strength stands the test of time."

She leaves and walks back towards the cottage when I look up from the bounty in my hand. It's then I choose, after all this uncertainty, I am meant for something more, that my life isn't what I once thought it to be. I've made my decision.

"Dearest one." I call out through desperate lips, the words feeling unnatural but true and honest.

I watch her as she halts, her hand on the door of the cottage, she heard me.

"Yes, Geoffrey." 

"There is nothing more on this earthly plane that I want, other than you, my love." I wasn’t denouncing god, only appealing to him to understand that it was no longer possible for me to serve as I once did.

There was no return from this and she remained as she was, only reaching her hand out to caress a pink flower to her right, pulling it to her and smelling it. "I liken myself to this rose, Geoffrey, my heart blooms for you also, my love. Alas, for now we have work to do."

She pushes through the door and leaves me standing in awe outside. I believe she's told me she feels as I do. I clutch the acorns to my heart and pinch the bridge of my nose, this is the beginning of a new and difficult journey for me, and here I thought having Buffy and Spike present in this time was hard.

I head back to the underground hide, lighting a candle and re-reading the language of the Eloise's elders. I have a new calling, watcher, lover, voice of knowledge, and hopefully in my future, husband.

........

"Thanks for informing me, Spike. You know, I've done nothing but be totally honest with you from the beginning, you knew everything and now you choose to tell me I have someone more dangerous trying to get to me.” Spike has been mostly honest with me up until now, I just don’t know why he wouldn’t tell me this, after all its me that’s in danger from this Lothos guy, not him.

“Look, me and the watcher, we decided it was best to keep it from you, so as not to scare you. Alright, it might’ve been wrong, but you were a young girl, you weren’t—this.” He’s waving his hand in my general direction.

This. That’s what I am? I would, so, love to punch him in the face right now.

“OK, so because I wasn’t the Slayer then, you thought I couldn’t handle knowing I was in danger? Geeze, why don’t you take a reality check, Spike? I’ve been in danger since I walked into that elevator, what’s another guy out to kill me? Anyway, I’m stronger now than I’ve ever been, I’m a Slayer, have you seen what I can do?” I can’t help but sneer at him. He’s living in the land of denial of my power, and I’ll be damned if I’ll stand for it, he’s not the only one who has the strength to protect, he just doesn’t see it, or perhaps he doesn’t want to?

“Oh, please accept my apologies brave and mighty Slayer! Excuse me for thinking of you, pet! You know it wasn’t five minutes ago you were snivelling inside my coat, wanting me to care for you, sleep beside you, hold you in my bloody arms like your bloody father! And you know what?”

A. I don’t know, mind reading isn’t a superpower I’ve been fricking graced with and B. He’d laugh if he met my father who’s never cared an iota about me. I shrug with pursed lips, so he continues.

“Oh, just forget it, we’ve got pissing work to do.” He says, giving me a self-conscious look, which doesn’t suit the usually swaggering vamp, he looks vulnerable for just a second and I long to run to him and tell him I’m sorry for fighting with him.

“Tell me.” I hear my voice and it sounds hard. I don’t want that, but he’s the one that brought in the sarcasm.

“Nah, do you know what? It’s nothing, let’s get on, we need to get to this cave before messenger vamp gets there and tells that git where you are.”

So that was the end of the conversation, uh, gag me with a spoon. Like I’m, so not worth it.

He gives me once last irritated look and begins to run, and I take off after him, glad of the distraction and the fact his hair lights up in the moonlight like a beacon leading me.

……………….

“Sire, Sir Rack has not returned, nor has he sent word.” A small raggedly dressed minion drops to his knees, sensing he may feel my wrath should I anger from this knowledge.

“And the others?” Could any of these blasted simpletons do anything right?

“They have not returned, Sire. Some humans were spotted in the woods on horseback with torches. We believe they are either laying low or have been strewn to ending dust.”

I can’t help but shake my head in exasperation at how ridiculous this is, there is an inexperienced Slayer out there and some farmers protecting their animals, how difficult could it be? “Send more, I want the Slayer brought here tonight or I will leave every last one of you out for the sun.” I see all my minions shrink away from me in terror. It would be a wrench to lose them all, some are excellent servants, but I must have her, once that is done, I will have the servants of hell by my side. I must have her for the ritual on the blood moon tonight, the final chance in four centuries since I was turned to open the mouth of hell. If I am to be the king of the underworld, then my key must be here to open the gates. Everything has been readied, I have the prophecy, the spells, everything - apart from her. I’m beginning to wonder whether my travel to the future was worthless to get that idiot Rack, he’s been worse than useless, losing the first Slayer somewhere in time and then sending her replacement who has somehow found friends and disappeared. I must have the Slayer this time, I cannot wait another four hundred years for the chance. The wizard who sent me to find Rack was unfortunately lost in a tragic incident, my minions ate him while I was travelling. I couldn’t berate them, after all, I hadn’t expressly told them not to.

All my minions flood from the cave in all directions, their heads down, all knowing their mere existence depends on bringing back the girl.

……………………………………

Buffy and I haven’t spoken since back in the woods, we’re creeping around the mouth of the cave, soundlessly.

“It looks safe enough.” She whispers, her gaze not meeting mine.

“Don’t do anything stupid. You’ll need to follow me, you can’t see bugger all in the dark.”

“OK, and Spike, don’t go playing the hero, we need to get back to the cottage and I’d rather we both get back in one piece.”

I nod as I creep forward, listening for any sound, though she likely doesn’t see it.

The cave system is treacherous, and several times catch her as she trips - bloody humans and their inability to see in the dark, she’s a sodding liability on a reconnaissance mission like this.

We almost reach the heart of the cave when I hear a buzzing noise, she hears it too, so it must be loud.

She grabs the collar of my coat from behind, “Spike? What is that? Is it bats or something?”

I listen intently, placing a finger over her mouth to keep her silent. The noise is vaguely familiar, and I realise it’s the sound of chatter, a cacophony of voices buzzing as they head in our direction. Shit! There’s nowhere to go, a hundred vamps would smell her a mile off.

“I’m sorry pet, there’s only one thing for it.” I murmur in her ear as quietly as I can. “Take off your dress.”

“W-what?” She speaks louder than she should in alarm.

“Take the sodding dress off or we’ll both be for it.” I demand.

Kudos to the girl, she does as I ask as I whip off my duster, tee and jeans, throwing them inside a darkened crevice I spot which is about a meter wide and a couple of meters deep. The vamps are heading this way. I take her in my arms and begin to rub my body over hers, careful to keep it as sterile and unsexual as possible, dousing her in my scent on all bare skin I can find around her shift. I even take her hair and rub it over my face, before scrubbing her cheeks with my own, her skin feels like suede, my senses so heightened I can feel even the tiniest of hairs on every part of her. Fuck, she smells divine and I’m covered in her. All I can hope is my scent dominates so that they think it’s the vague scent of a latent kill and pass us with no bother.

I push her inside the crevice.  We’re face to face, our chests touching while I desperately try not to allow my groin anywhere near her. I’m as hard as a fucking rock because her aroma is driving me mad, and it’s hard not to reach for her and snog her into submission.

……………………………

Oh my god, oh my god, there are hundreds of vamps heading in our direction and Spike has chosen this moment to make us strip almost naked and hide in a hole. I don’t know what his damn idea is, but it’d better be worth it, as has he seen my legs recently? They haven’t been shaved in a week or more and I vaguely resemble a porcupine!

He’s close and I can feel the smooth skin of his body against mine, the hard planes of his abs against my breasts, the fine hairs on his arms as they encircle me. It’s like a bonfire has been lit inside me and fireworks shoot from every nerve. I’ve never been like this with a boy or man before and it’s explosive, and right, so right. Electric pulses shoot up and down my spine and his breath cool’s my heated face. I would only have to stand on my tip toes to capture his mouth, I could kiss him, and he wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it and I want it so much. Blood is rushing through my ears and I’m standing toe to toe with a creature I should loathe, but instead all I want is him. Spike’s become almost everything to me in a short space of time and my heart is rioting against my brain at his proximity. Butterflies tumble around my belly, leading a chaotic revolt against any common sense I have left.

If I just shifted an inch and my lips could be on his.

He moves his head and I feel his shaky breath on my clavicle, “Hold still, they’ll pass us.” He doesn’t sound certain, more like hopeful.

I don’t know what he means, as I am holding still. No, I must be honest with myself, I’m trembling, and I’d hate him to think it was from fear, because fear is the furthest thing from my mind. I’m trembling with barely disguised lust. Oh god, let the floor swallow me up, I know he knows that’s why, his sense of smell is keener than mine and he’ll scent me soon, if he hasn’t already.

The noise becomes louder, and louder and then I hear them outside our cranny, all chattering like a flock of birds, complaining about having to hunt the Slayer, never expecting the one they seek is right here in the cave with them, hiding in plain sight.

It takes minutes for them all to pass, minutes that feel like forever. I’m shielded by Spike, his back to the opening of the crevice, his body buffering my heart beat. Then they seem to be gone and there is only quiet apart from Spike’s breath coming in short, panting gasps, mirroring my own. I know he doesn’t need to breathe. His face is so close to mine, kiss me, please, my mind begs and then there is nothing. With a sudden breeze of cool air, he’s moved outside the crevice, re-dressing. I stand inside the gap, trying to regain my wits, while my body blazes like an inferno and my legs feel like they might collapse.

“Come on, get your kit on, princess. If lucks on our side, we can catch the bastard alone now.” He utters, his voice almost like a sigh. He knew. He damn well knew what I felt, and he’s just moved away from me as fast as possible. I hate him for it. He toys with my feelings and leaves me hanging because he thinks he must act like a goddam gentleman with me.

I rush to get dressed, the humid air caressing my skin and causing me to shiver. Get yourself together, Buffy, this is no time to fall apart because some guy hasn’t kissed you. You are the Slayer, the chosen, and Lothos will bow down to you or he’ll be forced to.

The cogs of my mind begin to work again once I’m dressed again. Its better I can’t see Spike as I think this would be the most awkward situation yet. “Geoffrey, Eloise!” I hiss, “They won’t be able to fight off that many vamps!”

He doesn’t speak for a moment, like he’s contemplating what to say. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry to be the one to remind you, but this is about us, we came here together, and we’ll leave here together, we can’t worry about them, we need to get ourselves home or we’ll be stuck here forever. I don’t fancy waiting four hundred years to get back to Dru.”

I hate him a little more, because he wants to go back to her, his freaking vampire concubine, his sire, a woman who can give him what he wants because she’s no child, not like me, she’s taken seriously because she’s a real woman and I have nothing to offer him. I also loathe him because he’s right, I’m not strong enough to make the decisions he has right now. I bite back against the tears that flood my eyes, thankful he can’t see them.

…………………………………

“They’ll be coming for you, you know, he’ll send them all, hundreds of his vamps.” Rack was barely able to speak, his face and body was covered in tiny cuts from my, Death by a Thousand Cuts, spell. I altered it, so as not to kill the warlock we required to help Buffy and William home to the future, but he isn’t to know that. I was getting bored anyway, I’m capable of torture but it isn’t my style, so I’m sitting in my lounge drinking a cup of camomile tea next to a blazing hearth, while Geoffrey pours over my family history books in the chair opposite. He lugged them all to the cottage wanting to talk them over with me.

“For god’s sake, Eloise, can’t you keep him quiet.” Geoffrey is trying to concentrate, and I rise to pour him some mead, he needs something to relax him. He’s worrying about Buffy not returning, and however much I try to convince him she can take care of herself, he continues to vex himself.

Rack thinks I’m not prepared for any vampires who come. Admittedly I had thought of moving us from here, but then I knew it would be difficult to leave a message for Buffy and William which may not be found by our enemies. So, I must rely on my Solis spell, planted in tiny glass orbs which project sunlight when they are broken. I’ve found them most effective, but only when I can draw vampires into the open. A lone witch such as me cannot be unprotected when such creatures stalk the night, regardless of whether they can’t enter the cottage without invitation across the threshold. I once found one in the wood shed after dawn, sheltering from the sun and had to bind her and throw her into the sunlight, I knew then there would be no way I could do that if attacked by several at once, hence the development of my newest weapon.

“I—I’ll make a deal with you.” Rack blurts out as he receives a particularly deep cut to his face.

“We do not negotiate with dark warlocks, nor any other creature capable of performing dark magic’s.” Geoffrey speaks up, pinching the bridge of his nose as he flips a page.

Rack is silent again for a moment, realising haggling with us will do him no good and the man I hope will become my lover continues to speak.

“There’s a prophecy here,” he uses his forefinger to show me where he is reading from, “It says there will be a daughter of the coven who will see the future, and her power will be unleashed for all under heaven to see.”

“That’s a strange choice of words, especially since my family were no longer following religion, all under heaven wouldn’t be a phrase used at all by those who follow our supreme goddess.” I place my hand on his shoulder and lean down to read. He smells so good, so male and I wonder why his god would create men to be pious and leave their scent as a reminder to womenkind that they can look and smell these holy vessels, but they must not touch.

“Exactly as I thought, my dear. You have seen the future already, Buffy, Spike and Rack are the future.” He replies, placing his hand over mine on his shoulder. He has become quite daring since his little speech earlier, clearly, he has not ravished me, but even a simple touch such as this is not allowed by his vows. Perhaps there is hope for us yet? I notice his hair is now growing back, the small circle of dehaired skin no longer visible. I long to run my fingers through the luscious brunette hair, but I have the interloper watching my every move for any weakness, so I resist.

Rack clears his throat again. “I’ve had enough pain, that’s if you don’t want me to begin screaming and disturbing your little love scene.”

I purse my lips, love scene, I want to laugh, what does a dark one like him know of love? I place my hands on my hips. “I’m listening, though give me any falsehoods and I will make larger cuts, and I may begin with your precious cock.”

I hear a gasp and feel Geoffrey’s eyes on me due to my profanity.

The warlock blanches at this and nods. He looks sincere but I wouldn’t trust him if the goddess herself bid me to do so.

“I’ll take them back. I’m sick of being here now, Lothos can rot in his hellmouth for all I care. I’d rather return to my darlings, they’ll be missing the buzz I can give them.” He’s almost begging, and a slow smile graces my face.

“Give me the spell and I will let you live.” I’m not taking his word for it, the hellraiser!

“I know you won’t let me live if I tell you how I brought them here. If you won’t take my word, I will make a magically binding contract with you. I’ll return them safely to their own time and you can be sure of that once we’ve made the bargain.”

Geoffrey eyes me and then him with suspicion. I know he doesn’t trust him, but I know of the exact spell which will make Rack do my bidding. “Yes, we will do this spell, I’ll gather some ingredients for our contract.”

I lower Rack into a chair, healing his cuts and giving him some mead to drink before I set about making up the concoction to support our binding. He needs to be at his best if we are to do this.

I feel Geoffrey standing behind me. “Are you sure this is wise, dearest one?”

He rarely angers me, but as one who has less experience of the real world, I feel the need to allow him some grace for his absurd questions. “This is the only way. I sense trouble is only an hour away and we must begin preparations. The warlock will return them home once we undertake this pact.”

Geoffrey returns to his seat by the fire and takes a large draft of his mead, swallowing it until the last drop is gone and refilling it from the jug at his side.

Once I am readied, I return to Rack and take him by the hand, rubbing a paste of yarrow root and dandelion bloom over our hands and forearms, I light a pure white candle and begin, ignoring Rack’s sneer.

“Blessed be the goddess, we enter into this contract willingly and knowing we will forever be unable to speak any untruths we are bound to. Those under Eloise’s care will be returned to their rightful place, and the warlock, Rack, will bind himself to his plane, never to return to this or any other time which will cause ill to any other. Should he do so, death will be his punishment. We open our hearts and minds for only the goddess to see, her truth the only light we hold dear. So, mote it be.”

I feel breathless as the room fills with golden light bestowed on us by the goddess, revelling in her love.

I wonder why someone such as Rack would ever want to take the road of dark magic when the highest of priestesses bestows such beauty and light upon us, but I begin unwrapping him from his bindings.

“Eloise, dear, promise me this is not going to be a mistake.” Concern is written all over Geoffrey’s face and he picks up a crossbow, aiming it at the warlock.

“Trust in me, he can no longer harm anyone here and he will do as he is asked.” I reply.

Rack stands and walks to the window, his hands on his hips as he stretches his back. “I hate to tell you this, witch, but not allowing me to harm anyone here may be a mistake. There are at least a hundred vampires heading this way.” He nods his head towards the window before turning and grinning malevolently.

I know he can’t harm us, but those outside are able to cause a world of trouble.

……………

I try to focus on anything other than Buffy and her scent as we head down into what almost seems like a cavernous cathedral, lit up with hundreds of red candles. I can barely control myself and I wish I could turn off my senses.

As we arrive, the elder vamp sits, surrounded by a handful of vamps, his blonde hair neatly styled as if he’d been to a bloody beauty salon and his clothes just as I remember them. One of his leg’s lazes over the arm of his copper cast throne and he inspects his long claws. I know he’s older than the master of my house of Aurelius, but he hasn’t the features of ole bat face, He reeks of power and age, nonetheless and I know it’s unlikely I’m a match for him.

He ignores me and looks right at Buffy.

“Slayer, I must say, I never dreamed you would walk in here of your own volition, I am a vampire king, so I can only suppose you have a death wish, my dear.” He smiles and his fangs are evident, even though he isn’t showing his true face.

“I’m here to end you.” She places her hands on her hips and I bloody believe her, she says it with such conviction. Christ, I never thought I’d hear her say that to one such as he with such nerve and authority in her voice. She really has become something else.

Lothos laughs and I growl, Buffy turns at my sound, her look chastising me like a child. I don’t like it and I want to remind her not to take her eye off the ball.

“My dear, you have a pet dog,” he continues to chortle as he places two fingers on his temple, “Hmm, his name is William the Bloody, but you call him Spike, bizarrely. His over a century in years but this barely makes him a runt in my presence. I have minions older than him.” His ice blue eyes challenge me to speak for myself as he takes a sip from a pewter goblet, his body totally relaxed. I smell the blood in his cup, its human and fresh. I can’t help it, my mouth waters.

“I am a Childe of the house of Aurelius.” I inform him, hoping this will mean something and desperate to rip his pissing head off. I think he may have the skills Dru has, as a seer but no doubt they’re honed and not so nonsensical as hers, he wouldn’t know who I was otherwise.

“Ah, a Childe of Heinrich the pretender, he wants my throne, but alas, he is barely 300 years older than you, fledgling. My age is my strength, and he could not defeat me, just as you cannot. I had him walled up inside a monastery, in a room filled with crucifixes. It has one brick left out as a window so he would remain in misery from sunrise to sunset, with barely a strip of gloom to hide within. It’s a surprise he has not dusted himself yet, he’ll never escape.”

“To all intents and purposes, mate, I’d say I was the same age as him. You see, I was sired in the future three hundred years from now, Buffy and I come from four hundred years in the future. I wouldn’t be here if the old bastard had dusted himself, my grandsire was sired by his Childe who was sired over a hundred years from now when he is king of vampires.” I can’t help but snipe, one step ahead of him in logic. I don’t ever remember this story being told by Darla as we devastated Europe and she told us a fair few tales of the master she loved so much. Perhaps it was something the master never told her, I mean, it would’ve been humiliating.

“Well, that is something I shall have to remedy.” He grins malevolently. Two can play at that game and I give him my evilest stare in reply.

“Enough about damn vamps and their bloodlines!” Buffy demands, a stake held tightly in her fist, and her legs wide in a power stance I’ve realised she’s learned for herself in the past twenty-four hours.

Lothos snorts, “You cannot defeat me, you are a tiny girl who is a commodity to me. You blood is all I want. Seize her!” He gestures towards his remaining minions and they home in on her with snarling fangs.

She fights them with a grace I never suspected, she is truly an amazing creature.

As I watch, I inspect my nails, watching for Lothos’ reaction as she slays them all with ease, leaving neat piles of dust before him.

He begins to clap. “Oh, my dear, that was wonderful, but do tell me, how will you fair against the one you love?" 

“W-what?” She stutters, and I’m so astonished I look right into his eyes. He’s serious, he—h-he’s—I blink, but he has it, the one thing coveted by all vampires, thrall. I’m fucked, I’ve never been so buggered and terrified in my human life or damned because I know of its consequences, Dru has shown me.

“You will kill her.” Lothos shouts out loud for Buffy to hear.

“Spike?” She’s yelling, but her voice is distant, like an irritating buzz in my ear.

“You will kill her and render her blood to the Hellmouth this night, you will do as I say!” I only hear his voice clearly and he has me under his control, my body moves at his will, but my brain knows everything I am doing and no longer has authority over my movements.

“I will kill her for you, my lord and master.” My mouth says unbidden and my mind is screaming, no, no, no! I’ll never take her like that! Not for you, not for anyone! Fuck you, you are a fucking bastard, a tosser, you won’t have her, I’ll never, I’ll never—"

“Spike! Spike fight him!”

Buffy’s yelling as a red veil draws down over my eyes and I advance on her, readying myself for the fight. “You are dead to me, Slayer, you are of no more worth than the shit on my shoe!”

I hear screaming as the floor falls from before the throne of my master, fire roars from below and I fly through the air, my fangs at the ready. Oh, god, no! I cant help it.

“Spike, please, come back to me, please! Please come back to me, I love you, this is not you!”


	13. Chapter 13

[](https://imgur.com/8HjgSVO)

To say this was my worst nightmare was pretty darn accurate. In fact, I’d dare anyone to tell me otherwise. A vampire who I trusted implicitly has now gone rogue under the mental direction of a four-hundred-year old vampire megalomaniac who wants to slice open my throat and feed me to the Hellmouth. I can’t say I’m sure what will happen when he does, but it’s not of the good, I’d even say it was pretty much the worst thing that’s happened to me since I entered this crazy world of wearing impractical, smelly and awful fashion choices while avoiding getting caught by the King’s Guard and this guy’s vampire hoards. I’m not so sure my day could get any worse, that is, until Spike launches himself at me, with the crazy yellow eyes and yucky, sharpened claws which came out of nowhere, along with the fangs, Lord help me, the fangs are terrifying and are headed right for my throat.

“William, bring her to me, the time is now, the mouth of hell is open and ready for her sacrifice!” Lothos yells, clapping his hands in delight as I weave this way and that, dancing away with Spike’s eyes following me like the predator he is, still looking like my friend who’s cared for me and taken the time to keep me safe. This is what he is, I realise for the first time. Underneath his good looks, snarky banter and strangely caring nature, he’s deadly, a dangerous creature of the night and I would do well to remember that. Gone is my Spike, his mind under the control of another vamp who can’t wait to have my blood rendered over the stone floor and into the hole which has opened before his throne.

“Spike! You don’t need to do this, come back to me! You wouldn’t do this if you were in your right mind!” I plead breathlessly as I dart away from his grasp, laying a heavy punch to the side of his face which leaves my knuckles bloody and bruised, I hardly notice it. He cracks feral grin and licks the blood from his bloody nose. It’s possibly the most hideous thing I’ve ever seen. I don’t want to hurt him, but I’m being left with little choice. A Slayer must make the hard decisions, I know this instinctively, the buck stops with the Slayer and that is now me, Buffy Summers, however hateful a duty that seems at this moment.

It doesn’t take long until I’ve exhausted all my escape routes and Spike has me cornered. I fight back, I scratch at him, leaving an open gash over his cheekbone, lay punches with all my strength, anything to stop him getting the upper hand. I know I’m done now, deep down, Slayer or not, I know I’m too inexperienced to fight him off and he knows it too, he taught me every move I know and the training I’ve had wasn’t enough to fight off a master vampire.

He’s coming for me and I don’t know what else to do, other than plead with him as I feel his hands close around my throat, his sharp, dagger-like claw tips dig in to my skin and blood seeps from jagged slices and pools on my collar bone. Spike lifts his head and sniffs the air. Shit, I stood a chance while unscathed. This isn’t like when he lost his mind to bloodlust outside the pub when we first arrived and I was able to fend him off by kicking him in the balls, Spike isn’t that Spike anymore, he’s a killing machine and my blood is his trigger.

“Oh, god, please don’t do this Spike, I-It’s me, Buffy, remember me? The girl you saved in every way you could, y-you helped me when you didn’t have to.” My voice sounds hoarse, like someone far away is speaking on my behalf, as I struggle to breathe.

Spike growls mercilessly and I feel terror from the tips of my toes to the roots of my hair. I’m going to die here, the man I love is going to be the one to do it and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. I must be the shortest-lived Slayer ever. Why didn’t I ask Geoffrey to train me more? Why didn’t I make sure I knew what I was doing before I headed into this trap? I’ve been nothing more than a silly little girl pretending to be a super hero and I only have myself to blame.

Spike is no longer Spike, he’s a demon who’s snarling and licking blood from my clavicle. “Please d-don’t, S-spike, I’m begging you, I love you.”

“William, Ignore her idiotic pleas. Do as you’re told, bring her to me, you are not to sup her blood, it is for my purposes.” Lothos cries, his face a picture of lust as he watches Spike’s ministrations.

Spike turns his head, his look feral as he regards the elder vamp jealously, unwilling to give up his prize, and I take the only chance I have. I hear Spikes earlier warning in my mind, “Buffy, don’t take your eye off the ball,” and I find a strength from somewhere deep inside me to throw Spike to the floor, overpowering him, my almost forgotten stake fisted in my hand as we fall to the ground struggling. My arms hold his down at the wrist as he snaps at my breast, his teeth grazing soft skin. He’s strong but disabled slightly as I spread my legs to sit on his and hold them to the floor. As he continues to snap his gnashing teeth, I hold my stake above his heart. I’ll do it! I will! I must do it because now its him or me and I can see Lothos trying to navigate the craggy hole in the stone below him, trying his best to get to me.

For a moment Spike’s eyes flash blue again, like he’s been inside all along, and a moment of clarity has revisited him, like he’s pushed his own demon aside and the thrall of Lothos and he looks at me with desperation in his eyes. It appears Lothos is the one to take his eye off the ball, not me.

“Slayer, the orb, in my pocket, the orb!” He hisses before his eyes flash between their wonderful blue and the sickly evil yellow of his demon.

I dare to let his wrists free as I reach inside his duster pocket to retrieve a glass ball. The fricking thing doesn’t come with instructions, so I have no idea what to do except raise my hand a throw it at Lothos’ feet.

There’s a rush of splintering glass flying in all directions as it smashes, then a roar as a flash of purple and blue light blazes through the cave like a bolt of lighning.

Spike yells and pulls his coat over his face, the skin of his hands cracking and burning. Its only then I realise whats happening. I have no idea where Spike got the orb, but it emitted some sort of sunlight and I stand, letting him escape with my hand shielding my eyes as Spike rolls over, staggering to his feet to run inside a crack in the cavern, screaming in pain.

The light extinguishes and I see Lothos drop to his knees, his face and hands blackened and smouldering, his mouth open in a silent scream and his hands flounder as he attempts to cover his face.

The Hellmouth is below my feet, awaiting its sacrifice and I step forward, staring into the abyss, seeing nothing but a seeping darkness and smoke almost clawing its way towards me. I shiver at its proximity.

“Get the fuck away from there!” I hear Spike’s pained cry, I turn but he’s obscured by scraggy stone, not a part of him visible.

I realise why. My neck is bleeding and I’m close to giving Lothos what he wants, involuntarily. Lothos lets out small whimpers as steam rises from his pustulous skin. “I’ll kill you for this, Slayer,” he moans, “You’ll be looking over your shoulder for me, until your dying breath and I shall be the one to deliver it.”

I stand tall, my stake held high, deciding how to jump across the never-ending cavern in the stone below me. I’ll kill him first, he’d better believe it! “If you survive, you piece of shit, it’s you who’ll be looking over your goddamn shoulder! And if ever I die, I’ll make sure every Slayer after me hunts you down, rips you into tiny fricking pieces and pisses on your ashes!” I retort, god this guy is annoying, I just wish he’d die already!

There’s a loud unmistakeable rumble. As a girl from LA, it sounds very much to me like an earthquake. The crack below begins to vibrate, and rocks fall from above, booming as they land at my feet and cover me in grit. I have to go, there’s no more time to kill idiot vamps who want to be king of the underworld, the place looks like it’s coming down and I have to run. I turn and sprint towards the way Spike and I entered, but I hesitate.

Spike.

I don’t know if I can trust him anymore. Lothos is dying, burned to a crisp, he can’t possibly have the strength to hold thrall over my vamp, but still, I’m here in a cavern with one who could still render my blood to the Hellmouth and open it. Can I risk going back for the one I love? I run a few more steps forward, wincing as a giant stone column falls behind Lothos’ prone body, sending a cloud of burning ash into the air.

“Go, pet, don’t you bloody think about anything! Get yourself out of here before it all comes down on you!” I hear Spike shriek, his voice barely disguising his pained grief.

I know I won’t leave him, he’s done so much for me and what happened with Lothos isn’t his fault. I’m torn because I can’t be sure whether he’s still under the bastard’s spell. He could lure me to him and overpower me again.

Buffy, I ask myself, what would Geoffrey do? Another pillar crashes down, large chunks of rock covering Lothos’ body. Geoffrey would fight, he loved Agnes and he would fight for her, and I love Spike so I must fight for him too. Regardless of what Spike said about getting only me and him back home, I want to save the watcher and witch who helped to save us, it’s my job to help them too, I could never leave this place and look back in the history books to find Geoffrey died the same night I escaped back to my own time because I didn’t help him.

I can’t leave Spike behind, I just can’t, if I didn’t have him, I’d be long dead by now. I know I must take a chance, just like he did. He didn’t have to save me and that’s what makes him all the sweeter.

I run to the cavern Spike is hidden in and I hear a roar from within. “No! You don’t get to do this, Buffy, not after what I —” His voice breaks in pain.

“For fucks sake, Spike, will you just get out here, you stupid bint!” I use his own words against him, I never really knew what a bint was, but it always sounded like a word for an idiot, and that is what he is, a damn idiot for refusing my help. “I’ll count to five and you will walk out here, or so help me god, I’ll end you myself!” I yell, placing my hands on my hips and ignoring the swathes of dust falling over me from the tremoring rocks above my head. I feel weaker than I sound as I begin to count. “One—”

“Alright, you tiresome cow, I’m coming.” He yelps, staggering out from the dim light. He peers towards the broken throne of Lothos and then back to me. I reach a hand out to him, and, as he walks into the light from a fire raging over the back of the cave. His face is severely burned down one side, a section of his head almost bald, reddened with blisters and smoking flesh. He looks like a disaster victim. A tear runs down my cheek as I watch him almost fall over his boots and stagger towards me, he almost trips but manages to right himself at the last moment.

“We need to go now, pet! We can worry about my good looks after.” He grins and winces from the agony of it. There’s a louder rumble and I realise we’ve left it until the last minute, we’ll both be lucky to get out of here at all! I grab his hand and we run, Spike pulling me as he races over peaks and troughs, the passageways as dark as they’d been when we entered. How could I even have made it out without him anyway? I could’ve been wandering the stone footways until I was crushed under a ton of stone and I thank god for Spike, because as we make it out through the entrance, a huge boulder crashes down onto the ground we stood on only seconds before.

I let go of his hand and fall forward, following his lead and scooting away from the rock face on my hands and knees. I brace myself to be crushed.

All is silent, and a sob wracks my body and I let out a scream I’d been holding inside since Spike attacked me.

…………

Eloise seems rather too elated for my liking as she carries a box of glass orbs and begins to place them on the window ledge. "Sweetest, err, what is this?" I ask as I peer into the darkness. Rack was correct, we are surrounded by vampires who cannot cross the threshold but will be a barrier between Buffy and Spike and the cottage.

Rack smirks and turns, "I understand why you'd give up everything for this firecracker, she has brains and beauty, I bet she's the most wonderful fuck, like a bitch in heat."

I've wanted to smack this man in the face since first I saw him, and I don't need much more of an excuse than his disgusting display of language about the women I love. She's a pure being, I know she may not be virginial, I'm not so stupid to think a woman such as she may remain unsullied, as its not the way of her people, but she has something immaculate within her that I believe I can only see. When we come together, it will be to make love, nothing as sordid as this muck spout! He finds himself against the wall with my arm at his throat, seconds after he speaks. "She is not yours to think about, warlock! If she is to have carnal knowledge of any person, it will not be you. You're worse than any whoring bastard I've ever had knowledge of, and I've taken confession from some cunt seekers in my time!"

Eloise snorts as she places a gentle hand on my shoulder. "I've never heard a man of the cloth speak so." She grins, but it does little to abate my anger and I look back to him, forcing his throat until he begins to choke. "You will protect this place, Eloise's spell said nothing of being unable to fight the forces of darkness. Take the orbs and wait by the window, throw the orbs when you’re instructed to do so and remember my crossbow will be trained on the back of your skull, the number of fucks I give to thee will be none if I let arrows fly! Do you hear me, knave?"

Rack seems to understand, and he rolls his eyes before giving me a nod, his eyes unrelenting as he holds his hands up before him in insincere surrender. Eloise plants a kiss on my forehead, "My saviour." She says sweetly, and I blush, this woman will be the ruination of me. I would not allow a hair to be harmed on her head and she knows it.

"Yeah, it's easy to fuck with a man who can't fight back." Rack sneers, flinching as I step forward once again, ready to slap the look from his visage.

"It begs the question as to who is at fault for that? Perhaps I should leave you out for the vampires to feed upon? I would say any deal you once made with their master will be soon forgotten when they have hot blood to feast upon." 

Rack looks wide eyed momentarily. "That won't be necessary, man, we won't have time for that, not if you want your friends to get back to their time.” I move to choke him again and he shakes his head. “OK, OK, I'll stop the vamps, I don't want them to rip my throat out, same as you, buddy." The man knows when he is between a rock and a hard place and it is somewhat satisfying to witness.

"It is time." Eloise hands me a quiver of arrows she's wrapped in cloth and dipped in pure alcohol, the stench seeps into my nostrils and I wrinkle my nose as she passes me a candle. "Take out the runners with the arrows, I don't believe there will be many once the orbs are thrown."

"You," she pushes open the window and shoves Rack in between his shoulders, "Throw them, now!"

........

She saved me. She didn’t have to drag me out of there, she could’ve left me to die like she should have. I can’t bear that I turned on her like that, even though I had no choice. I’ve always known I’m susceptible to thrall, Dru had me do her bidding several times, but she only did it when she remembered she had the gift, which wasn’t often.

We barely made it out of the cave, if that boulder had crashed down a moment later, then we’d never have made it out. I’m on my back, staring up at a night sky I never thought I’d see again, pain throbbing through my head as the air cools my scorched skin. Then I hear her scream. Fuck, is she hurt? “Buffy!” I lurch to my feet and scramble over to her. She scoots away, her eyes wild and I know it’s me, it’s my fault she’s terrified of me. “Love, please! It’s me, its Spike, I won’t hurt you, would never hurt you in my right mind.” I know I’ve got it bad for her to tell her such a thing. She and I are two creatures never meant for each other, but, fuck, how I love her. My undead heart almost stops at the realisation.

“Stay away from me!” She yells, her back against a tree, her eyes filled with tears and her stake held high with intent.

“I promise, I’m me. That bastard, he made me do it, I would never—”

“He could still be mind-warping you!” She screams, “I want to go home, I don’t want to be here anymore, I want to be safe in my own bed. I don’t want vampires to exist! I want to go to school, see my friends, go to the mall, I want to b-be normal!” She shrieks.

I want to tell her the truth, that as the Slayer she’ll never be safe in her own bed again, that her friends will never really be her friends again because she will never be able to be honest with them about who she is, that she’ll be fighting off vamps until the day she dies and that could be in the next few years. My mind flits to Xing Rong and then to Nikki Wood and I sigh deeply. It would only take one motivated vamp to go after Buffy and she wouldn’t be safe until it was dead, or she was. “I know, pet, and we can get you home. I’ll find a way, I promised you that, didn’t I, love? Geoffrey and the witch, they said they’d help, but we can’t stay here, and we don’t have time for tears.” I say softly, inching closer, knowing I risk being dusted just for being here.

"This isn't right! Spike, I want to hate you, I want to tell you to leave, I want to kick your ass, but I love you, Spike, I love you." 

She's crying again and looking at me with misery in her beautiful green eyes as she hugs herself. I have to say, nobody has ever told me they love me, ever, but she's so young and she looks even younger as she wraps her arms around herself, tears dissolving congealed blood over her chest as she rocks herself gently. I flinch, the smell of blood sending my demon soaring to the fore. I fight it back but it's too late, she sees my eyes flash in reaction, and I hear her let out another barking sob.

"That wasn't, it isn't—Buffy that wasn't—I won’t hurt—" Shit! That wasn't what she thought, I try to tell her. It wasn't about her declaration, not at all.

She's up and running and I shout in her wake, "Buffy! Buffy, wait! Let me explain! Fuck! Buffy, I'm sorry!" I’m a wanker and I doubt she’ll ever forgive me.

..........

It's been a day since the vampiress agreed to her incarceration and I have spent time in the outer room, which is separated from the two with metal iron bars I've coated with pure silver. If either touch it, they will burn.

I've spent time watching her and her servant while reading my books. I have to admit, the female is beautiful, and she has a grace I've never seen, except perhaps only in a prima ballerina. The pair carry on about their day, throwing a tea party and muttering to each other cheerfully and treating the doll as if it’s a child.

There has been only one incident, when I first gave the pigs blood as a meal, when Drusilla grasped the bars and showed her true nature, her hands burning for almost a minute as her fangs dropped and she took a large whiff of me.

"This slop is not satisfactory for a lady, Watcher, I've tasted old men like you, they get stuck in my teeth! My William has already have drunk your Slayer dry and will rip you to pieces when he comes back to me, throwing her corpse at your feet when he returns." She hissed.

I was taken aback as she stepped away crying mournfully and yowling at the stripes on her palms. At her whines, the vampire named Charles rushed to assist her, allowing her to feed from him in front of me as he watched me with contempt. But in all, they were both well-mannered and mainly did as they were asked.

This close study of a vampire and her consort was something I'd never seen written before in the Watcher diaries. I suppose none had ever been in the position to keep a such vampires for observation, either that or their studies had not gone well and were never recorded. 

During the afternoon she began to cry and scratch at her hair. I watched Charles try to comfort her, talking about her dolly and how she needed tea. Even asking if his mistress wanted to feed from him again, regardless of the fact I knew he must have very little left to offer her.

"William! Another is in his head! Another has dared to invade my bad doggies mind!" She's crying out, throwing the China tea set I provided to the ground. She launches her tea pot at the bars. "Daddy will come for you, he will come, and he'll carry your spine as a trophy!”

“Angelus will come, my dearest,” Charles rushes to take her hand, “He will not leave you in such circumstances.”

As I mop up the tea from my face, I rush to the books I have. That name, it sounds familiar, and flipping through a few pages of the journal I have pertaining Drusilla and William I see some reference to Angelus, then Drusilla, William and Darla. The Scourge of Europe. My stomach sinks. Drusilla may be right. If William is with Buffy, she's probably dead. I can't believe she's otherwise. Oh lord.

.......

 

My heart pounds as he runs after me, I hear his voice and I want to stop. How can I make sense of any of this? I need to get to Geoffrey, because I don't know what I'm doing, and I need to talk this through with him. I don't understand much, but I know a Watcher is there to help a Slayer decide if she's doing the right thing. Was I wrong to trust Spike? Was it wrong to fall in love with him? Is he only staying with me to save his own hide? Or to get back to the future, because he knew he couldn't do it without my help? Perhaps everything was always the wrong way around? Perhaps I was the one who had the skills to get us out of here all along and he made it all about him?

I hear branches snap behind me as he gains on me. 

"Buffy, please!" He shouts.

I run until I think my heart my will burst. I don't know what I need, but I have to get away from him, because I know he'll just talk me around.

Then there is pain, everything stills into slow motion as I trip, my lower calf making impact with a large log, I fly and hit my head, I hear my name being called and then everything goes black.

......

"Buffy!" Shit, shit, shit! I try to get to her in time, but she falls, that bleeding, stupid dress getting in the way, tangling around her ankles. If I didn’t care about her so much and it wasn't so important to make sure she got back to the cottage tonight, I'd just have let her run away. I would've found myself a sodding horse and ridden off into the sunset, like John, pissing, Wayne, but there are hundreds of vamps out here and I couldn't allow her to be on her own in this state. I think we're close to the cottage now, and I check her over, she seems alright, just unconscious. I pick her up and throw her over my shoulder, running towards the direction of the cottage. 

I see a white flash and then fire lights up the trees in the distance. I place her against a tree, trying to suss out the situation as best I can without leaving her.

"Spike?" She calls my name as she comes around, her voice is the only thing that makes sense to me anymore, I would've dusted in that cavern for her and if she doesn't understand that, then I have to make her understand. "Spike, I'm cold," She murmurs, "I don't want to be with the icky cow with the pregnant belly, it frightens me, I want to hide with you."

I rush to her side, worried for her, she's rambling, and we don't have much time before we’re overcome, there are hundreds of vamps barely a mile away. 

"Buffy? Buffy, can you hear me?" I place my hand on her cheek, the rosy, ruddy flush of her face urging my want to write poetry for her. Her brow is feverish with sweat and blood is dripping from her temple, much like the night outside the pub when those sods threw stones at her. The blood is tempting, I know I fed from her back at the cave, my mouth was filled with the tang of it afterwards. I would never do that in my right mind, not now. I rip the bottom from my tee and place it over the cut, leaning in to ask her again if she's alright. She moves her lips as if she’s speaking and I feel her arm move to grasp the hair at the nape of my neck. "Why don't you love me?" She croaks.

I start at her question, the lost poet in me wanting to drop to my knees before her and tell her she illuminates my shadow, she is sanctuary from my corrupted and dead heart. I don't know whether she's concussed or in her right mind and, fuck, I want to tell her yes, I do, that she's the scorching sun to my cold and pale moon, that I'd do anything for her, but that wouldn't be right. I know how it would sound to her, a woman of her age, she would think I could be with her forever, and I would be if I were human, Christ, I'd give anything to be that for her. Yet, I can't stand to break her heart. She must know I'm the very thing she shouldn't have. I love her, unconditionally, but once we return home—if we return home—things will be different, she'll spend her life justifying who and what I am to those who want me dead. I don't want that for her, and I know Dru will be her first enemy, that she'll kill her for taking me from her, and then it will be the next enemy, the next and the next, until the blur of vampiric faces lead her to question herself as to why she lives with or loves one. If I admit the truth, we'd never be able to pick up where we left off once we’re back in LA.

I run my hands through my hair as I crouch before her, choosing to ignore her question for both our sanity. "Buffy, you're not yourself, are you injured anywhere else?" 

She groans and tries to stand, brushing my hand away as I try to help her. That's what I get for trying to be chivalrous.

"Um, you know, just forget what I said, I think I was dreaming, probably about some radioactive blonde Prince Charming." She giggles but her laughter stops dead as she realises what's just happened.

"Buffy, I-" I begin to say as she bluff’s she’s alright, a golden California girl smile fixed to her face.

"No, Spike, it's OK, you're clearly not up to the challenge of being with me, I get it." She doesn't meet my eye as she stretches, favouring her right knee as she rubs the left with a wince. 

The little bitch is going to play it that way, is she? Well two can play at that game.

"That's bollocks and you know it!" I bite out, I think I’m able to control my feelings but clearly, I can’t. If she knew, if she only pissing knew what I felt then she wouldn’t have the gall to challenge me. Christ, this woman could drive me to fucking distraction. I walk away, seething.

"You know I love you and you will never admit you have feelings for me, because you're a damn coward!" She screeches. 

"And you think you know everything, Buffy!” I yell back, “You're not even sixteen years old! You can't know how the world works! I'm over a hundred years older than you and, fucking hell, I was older than you when my life ended for the first time! This just can't happen between us, it's not right, how many times to I have to tell you?"

"So, you don't love me? This is the last time I'll ask, I promise." She looks so vulnerable, her face flushed with righteous anger as she baits me to my limit.

I turn and walk away, my hands on my head as I tremble in anticipation. Yeah, I want to kiss her and tell her everything, tell her I love her more than I’ve ever loved anyone in my life, that I want to protect her until I dust but noise from the cottage meets my ears and I know we have to go. 

Fuck this! I stride over to her, pushing her back against a conveniently placed tree, "Will you bloody listen to me for once!" I roar.

She holds my gaze, obviously unafraid of me now, her chest rising and falling as she pants, I grip her silken hair at the nape of her neck, feeling her soft skin against my fingers. "I love you, alright!” I shout, watching her bite her lip as she tentatively reaches out to caress my chest. Her fingers burn and I try to fight it, “But I can't have you" I say softly, lips inches from hers. Her pupils are blown wide and her plump lips, so tempting.

She lets out the barest of breaths as my lips move closer.

"Spike." She utters, her sweet breath caressing my lips as I breathe her in, my hand trailing her over her thrumming artery.

She moans and I’m lost, any resistance gone. I growl as I crash my lips on hers revelling in the warmth of her mouth, yanking her to me when I feel the tentative slide of the tip of her tongue against mine. I deepen the kiss, so hungry for her and desperate to feel her touch. Her hand slides to my chest and grips my shirt before I come back to some semblance of reality. I realise then, I'm so royally fucked, and she is it for me.


	14. Chapter 14

[](https://imgur.com/8HjgSVO)

Holy shit! I’m kissing Spike, and he’s kissing me back. When his tongue slides into my mouth, I swoon like some heroine from a romance novel. In the back of my mind I remember a book of my mom’s, where the hero kissed the girl and it said their tongues duelled for dominance when they had to share a bed in some tumble-down shack in a storm. I don’t know why my thoughts have drifted at a time like this, but the women described the man as tasting of pineapple, it was kind of icky and I couldn’t understand why the guy would taste like fruit. This is so much better than that. Spike doesn’t taste of pineapple at all, he tastes different, his breath has a sweet, delicious tang but as I tentatively reach my tongue to touch the tip of his, I notice his mouth doesn’t taste dissimilar to mine. It’s the feeling of a tongue that isn’t my own in my mouth that dazzles me and causes me to sigh, and the fact a part of his body is inside mine. He’s so close, closer than I ever dreamed, and his heated kisses are sexier than I’ve ever experienced before. I take in the smell of him, the scent of his leather coat infused with smoke from the cave along with an aroma of something I can only describe as pure maleness, Spike alone. No other guy has ever made me feel like this, I’m so hot I could strip all my clothes off and my skin would sizzle like an egg in the Arizona desert sun and the throbbing place between my legs would emit a powerful jet of steam like a geyser. I want to giggle but I doubt he’d find the concept as funny as I do, you kind of need to be in my head to get it.

He cups my face, like he’s drinking me in, and his fingers seem to have a mind of their own, caressing my skin and clutching me closer as his lips gyrate against mine. I’ve been so surprised by him launching himself at me I forgot to close my eyes, so I’m startled when he pulls back, my lower lip snagged between his human teeth. It makes a tiny pop as it settles back into place. He’s eyeing me hungrily, his eyes dark with lust and I let out a moan as he releases my head and runs his hands down towards my breasts. I see a look of contrition when he finally realises what he’s doing, but not until his fingers brush my breasts. Holy fuck, I inhale and feel myself shudder.

I bite my lip, my tongue poking out to lathe the place where his teeth had been. My nipples are so hard I wonder if they might poke holes through my top. I think I might be losing my mind as one of those Halloween ghost outfits with the cut-out eyes pops into my thoughts, except with nipples poking from the holes. I touch my top front teeth with the tip of my tongue, and he growls under his breath. Its damn hot and I wonder what else I could do to make him do that again. I want to beg him to touch my breasts once more, I want him close again, I want it all, pouting when he whips his hands away from my chest like he’s been burned and runs his fingers through his hair, wincing in pain as one hand lands on his skull injury., I feel bad for him, it must be painful.

“I’m sorry, pet, I—Well, I, probably shouldn’t have done that.” He murmurs, his eyes on my lips as I chew them.

I want to tell him continue what he was doing but I feel nervous, what if he thinks I’m pushing things too far? “Spike, don’t, please don’t say you’re sorry, I’m not sorry, I’ll never be sorry.” I know I’m blushing, and he reaches out to cup my chin again, running his thumb over my throat in tiny circular motions.

“Bloody hell, Buffy, I’m not sorry, wish I could say I was, you’re like sunshine, fuck, I could kiss you until our lips fell off. You’re amazing, love, I’ve never— shit—never tasted the like.”

I’m not a fan of the lip fall-age but more kissing sounds like the best idea I’ve had since we arrived.

“Then kiss me again, make me believe it, because all I see now is someone who will think too hard on my age and regret everything when we stop. While you’re willing, I want you, you don’t know how much.”

“Think I have an idea of how much, kitten.” He closes the gap between us, pulling my body flush with his in one swift motion. Once I feel his hard body against me, I’m lost in him, any previous thoughts gone. I gasp for breath, my fingers inching under his t-shirt to stroke the peaks and valleys of the muscular abdomen I’ve wanted to touch for so long. His skin is like a sheath of malleable suede over abs of steel. He moans into my mouth when my fingers reach the fine hairs above his belt and the sound drives me crazy, even more so as I feel his hardened length against my belly and his jean clad legs brushing against mine through the slits he made in my dress. I thought I felt like a woman when I came into my own, but there’s something about having him here in my arms, wanting me like this, that makes me feel feminine in a way I never have before. I’m no angel, I’ve touched a boy’s prick before, that is, I’ve touched them through their pants when they’ve asked me to, but never like this, it feels so natural, like we just fit.

My heart is dancing in my chest, doing the cha-cha or one of those old timey dances and I don’t know what I’m feeling, I only know it feels amazing. Something about Spike and I makes me want to wait, though, I feel like he’d expect things from me that I’m not ready to give, and really I think he wouldn’t take things that far right now, he knows I’m a virgin and he’s tried so hard to be the gentleman he thinks I want, that if he oversteps I’ll have to listen to him whine about it forever. So, I resist. He seems to have some ideas of his own and I feel his hands at the tops of my bare thighs, the fine hairs standing on end on the most delightful way as they weedle their way to my butt, over my scratchy, cotton shift. I almost yelp in surprise as he clasps the globes of my ass in both hands, kneading them as he grinds into me. I wish his hands were on my bare skin, that we were naked so I could feel every part of him. I think my legs might give out on me, they’re trembling so much from the electric shocks zipping up and down my spine, then over my lower belly I don’t know how long they’ll hold me. I feel moisture pool in my panties and that’s it, I’m totally embarrassed. I’m not normal, surely this doesn’t happen when other girls get it on with a guy? He’ll think I’ve pee’d my pants and I’m disgusting. I let out a small shriek and push him gently back. My chest is heaving, and I notice his is too, his hair is ruffled, and I wonder if mine looks like that too.

There’s look of realisation dawning on his face, “Too much, princess? I’m—”

“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry.” I warn him, snaking my arms around his waist and leaning up to kiss his chin as I try to hide my horror at my body’s reaction to him. “It was nice, I’m just, it’s just, I-I’m scared we’ll do more than I’m ready for right now, but it was nice.” Nice, Buffy? It was more than nice, now I get what people are saying when they say sex is the most amazing feeling. If that was just a taste, I think it’ll be awesome when we finally do it. I make a mental note to look up the wet feeling.

“Nice, eh?” Looking down at me, he raises an eyebrow and chuckles. I wait for him to make a snarky comment, I know him well enough to know saying it was nice wasn’t exactly the word he was looking for. He doesn’t, though, his eyes dance with mirth.

“OK, hot. It was smoking hot.” I thread my fingers through his as we stand chest to chest.

He glances up at the sky, “Shit, pet, we need to get going, I can see fire on the horizon.”

“What do you mean?”

He lifts his nose to the air, “We need to get going, I don’t know but I think the Watcher and the witch might be in trouble.”

…………

Holy fuck, it’s more difficult to run with a hard on than I thought. I have Buffy’s hand tight in my own and we’re tearing through the forest, making for the cottage. As we begin to close in on the place, I hear first shouts and then screams. None of them sound like they’re human and I scent burning vamp, no scratch that, burning vamps. I can only hope Eloise has taken the precautions she’d promised and they’re just battling with the hoard who’ve come to claim them.

I halt on the edge of the glade and hold Buffy behind me, watching the scene of utter chaos before me. There are at least fifty of Lothos’ vamps still standing, others are on fire, some burst into ash as orbs are launched at them from the cottage. The thatched roof is on fire, a couple of vamps are clambering down and dancing with glee at their plan to raze the place to the ground, I can hear the bastards hollering to each other.

As one line of vamps move to replace the dusted ones, another, smaller group duck to the side of the house, easing their way towards the windows. I don’t think they can breach the place without an invite, but they might be planning to grab the arm of the one tossing the orbs.

“Still got that stake, Buffy, love?” I ask, all signs of my erection but a memory as I wish I had Geoffrey’s crossbow with every fibre of my being. I need not worry, as I watch bolts flying from the open window, massacring the ones the watcher could get within his sights. A dab hand with a crossbow, the monk is, and I thank the bloody gods for it.

“Yeah, come on, we can’t leave them like this, and we can’t stay out here all night.” She yells, letting go of my hand and running off into the fray before I can stop her.

I hesitate, the orbs could as easily dust me as the others and I can’t risk it, but then I can’t leave her either. “Fuck it!” I shout, throwing myself at the first vamp to come near me, jumping on his back and twisting his head off. One of the first things I learned from my grandsire was twisting off heads, and I thank him for it, even if I hate the wanker’s guts.

Buffy’s spinning like a top, taking out vamp after vamp like an avenging angel. I yell out towards the cottage, careful to take her off her game. “Watch what you’re doing with those bloody death balls!” Hoping someone hears me.

The Watcher shoots a vamp on my left, his arrow whizzing past my ear. I hear him laugh maniacally as he yells.

“Get in here you fools!”

The bloke has a bleeding odd sense of humour, I think as I dropkick the next vamp I come across, careful to keep at Buffy’s left in case she needs back up.

…………

These sons of bitches will be the death of me. I’m just tossing out orbs at the vamps as they close in on us. Smoke begins to fill the inside of the cottage and now we’re going to be burned alive, as well as being dinner for the vamps.

“The roofs on fire!” I yell through the din, annoyed as the monk grabs me by the collar with one hand and yells in my face.

“I don’t have time for this! if you don’t want to burn, get a bucket of water and extinguish it!” I watch as he picks up another orb from the dwindling box below the window and throws it at a group of vamps sidling up the side of the house. I don’t know why he’s getting his dick in a knot, the vamps can’t get in and they’ll have to leave when the sun rises anyhow. These people are morons.

As I leave, I hear Eloise call out, “This is worse than I thought, they’ve got onto the thatch and they’re trying to smoke us out.”

Yup, any fool could’ve told you that. “Stupid bitch,” I mutter under my breath, but then I remember I’m in here too and I don’t want my throat ripped out, or to be set on fire. I run for the water pail, throwing it up at the smouldering straw over the kitchen, As I toss it up it mostly lands on me and I know we haven’t got much more water available inside. Shit.

“Thank the lord and his holy vessels, I see Buffy and Spike!” The monk reloads his crossbow from his dwindling stash of arrows.

“Uh, guys?” I call over the dolts by the window, while eying the fire above me taking hold “We don’t have much time, you need to get the Slayer and the vamp in here right now.” I sigh and throw my hands up in despair. I suppose I’m going to need to save them, if I’m to save my own damn skin or the last bolt from the monk’s arrow will be for me.

……

I can’t help but watch Spike and the Slayer in awe. They’ve moved into a back to back formation, she is taking out the vamps to her right, he to their left, working together in such harmony I want to fall to my knees and thank the goddess for her blessings.

I look to Geoffrey and wonder if he knows this might be the end for us two. Buffy and Spike can go with Rack, but if we can’t make it until sunrise, we shall be either burned or turned to become the devil’s spawn. I love him and I would see him through it, I know I will pierce my heart with my ceremonial blade and have him do the same, if it was not for his faith. Regardless of him leaving his place within the church to take his place by my side, he would never commit the sin of suicide, he would fight to the end and perish in his chosen way.

I watch as fire licks down the walls of my apothecary, my dried hanging sage and chamomile flower, the first to burn.

“If you want to save anything, you must do it now.” Geoffrey calls, his face lighting up as Buffy’s hand takes his and he pulls her through the window. There’s a minor battle between him and the vamp as her skirts get caught on the window but the fabric rips and I see her fall with a thump to the floor, quickly rising and hugging him.

I rush away, I don’t know what to save as mother earth will always provide but there are things I will never find again. My most prized possession is my Orb of Thesulah, and I take that from a drawer and stuff it in my pocket, I take a pouch of Feverfew, Goldenseal and Sandalwood in case we need them for medicinal purposes. Rushing to the table, I gather the books of my family and place everything in a sack cloth bag, along with a flagon of homemade sack and brandy, some bread and a few apples. It will have to do; the roof is now fully on fire and I know we’ll need to leave soon.

Rack is pacing behind me.

“I must take them now or we’ll all die.” He’s a cumberworld but he is also right, Buffy and Spike must leave this time and return home, their lives are in grave peril, as are ours.

………

I make it back inside, relieved when Geoffrey takes my hand and hauls me inside.

I look for Spike, he was right behind me before but now he’s back fighting against the vamps, who are gaining ground. I don’t think they can come inside without an invitation, but the cottage perimeters are breaking down, its roof burning away. I don’t know enough about what gives them entry, but I’m worried whatever makes them unwelcome could soon be burned away, leaving us vulnerable.

“Spike! Come on, we have to get inside!” I scream into the ruckus. Please let Spike be OK, I chant over and over in my mind, my hands on my face in panic as I watch the vamps turn on him, now they don’t have me to fight. He pauses for the briefest of seconds and looks at the roof. I finally get it, vampires are extremely flammable, and he doesn’t want to enter a place where he might easily catch fire.

I hear Rack call out to me. “Slayer, we need to go now, or you might as well kiss your vamp lover goodbye!”

Vamp lover? How the hell does he know? I want to smack him in the face, and I just might when we get home, if we get home.

I try to climb onto the windowsill and Geoffrey grabs my arm. Its not like he could stop me with the strength I have now, but I realise he’s only doing it for me.

“No, Buffy, he’ll get here, we’ll all die if you go back out there! You must do as I ask this once, please, I beg you. He will come, just ask him. If he loves you, he will do as you ask.” I glance up into my watcher’s eyes as he mentions the word love. I know Geoffrey just wants me to be safe, I know its his main purpose as watcher and I also realise he will have me leave Spike behind if he doesn’t get here in time, I can see the look he gives me, like he’s almost asking for forgiveness for what he’s about to do.

“Spike, you get in here right now or so help me—” I screech, panic stricken.

“You’re having a pissing Giraffe if you think I’m coming inside that sodding inferno!” He roars back, but he looks afraid, apart from what happened between us in the cave, when he wanted me to get myself out, I’ve never seen a look of true fear on his face until now and it unsettles me.

“Please, Spike, Racks doing it, we’re heading home, please, do it for me.”

Spike pauses long enough for a vamp to get a good punch in and I scream as he falls from my sight, overcome by other vamps and I fight as Geoffrey and Eloise grasp my arms, desperately trying to see him on the throng.

A silver light envelops the cottage, swirling as forks of lightning crackle, it begins slowly, but then moves faster as Rack begins his spell. I beg Geoffrey and Eloise to do something, shirking them off to get towards the window.

I feel their hands pull me towards the centre of the revolving light, battling my way back, I won’t leave him, I won’t! Geoffrey’s voice pleads with me desperately as I begin to sob, no, no, no, no! My legs feel like pudding and I realise Eloise has cast some spell on me to make me yield and I hate her for it, I want to kill anyone who stands in my path.

“Don’t you dare, witch! Don’t you frickin’ dare!” I know I’m howling in despair.

“Buffy, you must leave, you are more precious than you know, you are needed to fight the forces of darkness, the chosen one, the one girl in the world with the strength and skill to fight the vampires, you must leave now. Spike has walked the plane of existence for over one hundred years, he’ll understand that a young girl like you is indispensable in this fight, he won’t want you to die, he’s made his choice.” Geoffrey implores.

Rack is chanting, his eyes glowing as he repeats the spell repeatedly, winds whipping the room into a frenzy. “Take us back from whence we came, to time and place that are the same. Let past be present, that time regain.”

“I can’t! I won’t leave without him, I love him! Please don’t make me!” I scream. “I can’t do this without him, I won’t, I’ll die with him.” I hear blood rushing through my ears as I screech out in fury, feeling weak from the spell the witch I trusted cast.

Rack clasps my upper arm and drags me to the centre of the circle, I try to fight but the floor is gone, a black hole replacing it and I’m falling. “No! You bastard, I won’t leave him!” The breath is knocked from my chest and I black out, forgetting why I’m even here.

…….

The biggest vamp I ever saw has just ploughed a haymaker into the side of my head and I get up to fight back. I can’t hear Buffy’s voice calling for me anymore and, as I jump on the big fuckers back, I see silver light leaking from the windows. I’m desperate and I pull his head back with all my strength, he’s roaring and swinging his arms with brutish strength, trying to swing me from his back. I use everything I have and finally I feel his neck crack and leap from his back onto the window ledge, seeing nothing inside but the swirl of a hurricane inside and the raging fire taking over the cottage.

I hear Buffy scream my name as I dive inside, pushing the Watcher and the Witch with me into the cyclone’s eye. If I’m fucked, then they’re fucked too, but I have to try, because if I don’t, I’ll be stuck here with a four hundred year wait to get back to the woman I love. I’ll never forgive myself if I break her heart, she needs me, and I’ll dust before I wait that long for her.

I feel arms scramble to seize hold of my coat, heartbeats roaring in my ears, like they were almost my own and screams as we all fall into the ether.

Everything goes dark and I wonder if I’m dusted. If I am, at least I tried. I love you, Buffy, this is for you, always for you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don’t hate me for leaving this chapter here, I had to because the next chapter needs to begin in a certain way, and this would’ve been a gazillion words long otherwise. 
> 
> The spell Rack uses to return them home is pinched from Charmed. It’s called the return spell. What can I say? Spells aren’t my forte ;)
> 
> Cumberworld - Also called a cumberground—someone who is so useless, they just serve to take up space. Source: http://mentalfloss.com/article/61819/42-old-english-insults
> 
> The story is as up to date as my posting is so far over on Elysian Fields. I'm at college and I will continue to post as and when I can. 
> 
> You can find me as -Carrie-Ann- over on Elysian Fields and SpuffyCarrie on tumblr.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading, if you have time to comment then please do as I love hearing from you all. TTFN.


	15. Chapter 15

I'm screaming as I land with a thwack on my butt and find myself inside the elevator with Rack, I think it’s the same one Spike and I left in but I can’t be certain so I start yelling and kicking out at the doors, shrieking Spike’s name with furious wrath, how could Rack let me leave him! I can't deal with this! I can’t be without him. I try to function but the feeling of being ripped away from him has screwed with my brain, I don't know if it's the magic that's made me crazy or the fact I've just spun through four hundred years with a guy I would gladly smash in the face with the heel of my boot. I try to open the doors, to rip them apart with my new found strength but its futile while its in motion, this time it’s a much smoother ride and I feel no urge to vomit. I throw a few punches and feel satisfaction as I dent the metal, before I turn on Rack.

“If you touch me, you’ll never see your precious vamp again, Slayer.” Rack eyes my fists as he backs away holding his hands up. He’s terrified as he damn well should be, he’s taken me away from the man I love, a man who could be dusted for all I know.

"What did you do?" I sneer as I grab him by his grimy shirt and push him against the shiny metal wall of the elevator, my fist raised high. I feel my body vibrate as I fight the urge to rip his idiotic head off.

He's smirking and I want to hit him more for daring to fuck with me right now.

"Aww, shucks, don't I get any thanks for bringing you home, Slayer? Isn’t it what you wanted?" He places a hand over his heart, with a pout, "I'm hurt."

"You'll find out how hurt you feel on the end of my fist, if you don't take me back!" I can barely contain myself.

There's a ping as the doors open beside us and the lights blind me. It's been a while since I've seen anything other than fire and candlelight and it feels weird to be back where I started, everything is too bright and I was happy with Spike, now he’s gone I don’t think I’ll ever be happy again without him. I place one hand over my eyes and while I’m distracted, Rack takes his chance and pushes me aside, running out into the crowds and knocking over an older woman. I rush to stop her falling, my eyes blinking rapidly as they try to take in the blinding light.

"Thank you dear, " she grasps my arm, "these young people have no respect." She gives me a breathless smile while looking me up and down, " Oh, are you playing dress up?" She wrinkles her nose at my grubby get up.

I look down at myself and I realise look like crap, "I, uh, I-I don't know." Because I don't know how to explain what happened to me.

"Do you need some money, dear?" She thinks I'm homeless, I know it, and I watch her look in her purse with a frown. Buffy, frickin' Summers, valley girl, looking like death warmed up. I walk away before the lady offers me cash or to take me home, heading right for the exit before anyone sees me. It’s like I never fit back in Geoffrey’s time in this outfit and I don’t fit in my time. This outfit is a fashion horror, I close my eyes and apologise briefly to Agnes in my head, but it’s the worst, and more horrible now its ripped into pieces.

"Buffy, Is that you?" I hear a familiar voice yell from a few stores down, I watch Kimberley push through the crowds and rush towards me with her arms filled with bags, "What's the sitch?" She wrinkles her nose, like she just stepped in something nasty, "You look like some groady old hobo! Ugh, you smell like some hobo too, I think I might barf!" She drops her bags and covers her nose. "What happened to you?"

I watch her shrink away from me, peering around her as if she's ashamed to be seen with me. I don't care, being away from these airheads for all this time I see my friend for what she is, a damn carbon copy of every vapid valley girl I've ever known. Was I really like her only a few weeks ago? All I know is I don't want to be like her again. "I think I grew up."

"Eww, what's your damage?" She chewed on her gum in a way that irritated me way much more than when I last saw her, "Grew into what? Some geek who loves old ladies?" She tuts as she watches the woman, I helped stare into a store window.

"You know, you've got a big mouth for someone who has the intelligence of a gnat." I can't help but retort.

"Whatever!" She gesticulates, creating a W with her thumbs and forefingers, "Ugh! Buffy, like, tried, but you were always so jealous of me, I tried to make you part of the gang, then you just disappear like you don’t care at all, seriously? Were you whoring yourself out to some stoner? Do you know what, you’re barfing me out and you're dead to me!” She huffs, heading off at speed and conveniently leaving one of her bags on the floor beside me.

I chuckle as I eye her shopping bag and shrug, picking it up and heading for the bathroom. If I'm going to deal with bitches like her, I'd better dress the part. Things are different now, shopping is no longer my main aim in life, but that doesn’t mean I want to wander the streets of LA dressed in rags. I change inside a cubicle, throwing Agnes' dress in the bag to take with me. Somehow, having her with me makes me feel stronger and it feels weird to leave her clothes in the trash, like she never existed, because she was a sister slayer to me and, somehow, she gave me courage by proxy through this dress and some of the best times of my life have happened while I’ve been wearing it. Opening the door, I leave the bathroom dressed in leather pants, a red silk halter and some stylish black boots I know Kimberly will hate to lose. I don't know where to go, I have no money but holy hell, I look fabulous. I head into the beauty store and wait until a shop girl rushes over and spritzes me with the latest scent and asks me to try the latest baby pink lip gloss. I may not be the girl who left here weeks ago, but at least I smell good.

I glance back as alarms ring out behind me when I exit the store, I guess they’ve seen the damage I did to the elevator. I ignore them as I need to find someone to help me find Spike, and the store alarms are the least of my worries.

…………

I've slept underground next to the vampiress’ cell for almost a week and I’m beginning to lose time. I'm lying on my cot staring at the grubby ceiling when Drusilla begins to wail. She's been doing that a lot recently and her servant minion has often managed to calm her, but tonight she sounds angrier than I've ever heard.

She grips the bars of her cell, and I try to ignore her, I’m beginning to feel the oppression of living without sunlight, lord knows how she must feel after a century of the same, no wonder she’s crazy.

"He's lost and she's back here from magics, the betrayer too!" She bares her fangs, her sharp fingernails slicing the air as I dare venture too close.

"I won't listen if you try to kill me, madam," I chastise, "Of course, if you kill me, you'll be trapped here forever, as you already know."

She throws her head back and cackles in the most disconcerting way. "You are my pet, don't you understand? I could escape from this prison with a flick of my fingers."

"Then, please, do tell me why you've remained?" I really need to know. I want to ask for a demonstration, but I haven't readied my crossbow.

"I allowed you to restrain me so I could spy on you, are you really such a fool? I took you for more. I believed you had sense in that noggin’ of yours, even Charles found it difficult to believe you’d fallen for our trap so easily."

I glance at Charles, who looks sheepish and for the first time she seems truly lucid. My hackles rise. I realise she's been playing her own little game and I'm just her pawn. "Drusilla, do not take me for a simpleton, I’m more than prepared—"

"Oh, watcher, I would never consider you as foolish, for a human you're a worthy adversary, but I now doubt you'll live long enough to realise you're going to die."

I feel the air move before my throat once more and I'm ready for her, a stake I kept in my belt the whole time, raised above my head.

"Give her to me! If he's lost to me, then it's at her hand!" She shrieks.

"It is her calling. If she's returned, as you believe, then she has completed her task in spectacular fashion, and I feel nothing but proud of her."

Her face crumbles as she clutches her head, ripping lengths of long, dark hair from the roots. "No! My sweet William will return to me, he would never leave me!"

“Madam, I’m afraid it may very well be the case.” I say sadly. However, many tales of woe she tells me, she is still one of the undead and she cannot be allowed to exist.

…………

Fuck! I feel like I've been run over by a freight train, all I can feel is oppressive heat and burning around my body and I'm bloody well flammable! I lift my head and see a ring of fire surrounding me and pipes, massive pipes above me, it's like I've arrived in a Freddy Kruger movie without being asleep or as stupid as those idiotic teens. I have no energy to move and still I find myself chuckling. Me and Dru watched those movies and laughed ourselves silly over them. Dru always wondered why Freddy killed for fun and not to eat and I didn't have the heart to remind her of Angelus and his penchant for killing for the sake of it.

Dru.

Shit I’m reminded of why I’m here, Christ, Buffy! Where the fuck am I? Where is she? I squeeze my eyes shut and try to remember what's happening. I hear a groan to my left then a female voice speaks.

"Spike?"

Who the bloody hell wants me now? I need to rest, and it would be just bleeding lovely if I could just kip for a minute, its warm, so lovely and warmth seeps into my cool bones and sleep tries to claim me, hindered by the niggling, annoying voice that keeps calling my name.

"Spike, where are we? I don't know this place and I can't see Geoffrey."

I recognise her voice, it's Eloise. Every inch of my back cracks as I try to turn and the acrid smell of burning invades my nostrils. I hear a group of men’s voices as they close in on us. Why would Geoffrey be here, let alone her? Unless we're in the bowels of hell. I suppose Eloise would deserve it as much as me in the eyes of god. The watcher would ascend with grace, leaving us peering upwards as we were sucked into the bowls of the earth, perhaps that’s why he’s gone?

"Buffy," I cough out her name and lift my head watching in terror as fire races across the ceiling above. "How are you here witch? H-how are you—?" A column falls and hits me in the head. How is she here? It’s my final thought as I black out.

.........

"My Spike is here, he'll burn! You'll burn, but most importantly, watcher, she'll burn, your precious Buffy! She's here and when he burn’s she will too, I’ll make it so!"

She's pacing the cell and Charles is begging me to free her. "Sir, she speaks the truth, if you don't release her then there will be death. I know her, I've watched her every move since I've served her, listened to her every spoken thought. She does not act this way unless something is truly wrong, you must listen to us. My existence is of no consequence but she—she must be set free to save her William, he's in danger I know it!" He drops to his knees, postulating before me.

"Charles, you have been the voice of reason in this mad world Drusilla has created, but if I release her, countless more will die at her hand and I cannot allow it."

"Then I'm sorry for you, sir, you are a kind man, a good man, but you forget one thing. As a watcher you should always watch for one thing." His eyes are sad as he speaks.

Fear curls in my belly. I always thought I was seasoned in the ways of the council and I wonder what he speaks of.

I brace myself, and before I try to look away, Drusilla moves at high speed into my vision, her eyes on mine.

"Thrall, my dear boy, thrall is everything." She glowers.

I'm lost as her eyes take over everything I am, and I'm lost to darkness.

"Thrall, dearest," Drusilla speaks as I walk closer, mesmerised by her and open the locks to the cell, "Thrall is a vampire’s greatest weapon."

..............................................

A crash echoes through the cave system and I stir, my body racked with pain. My injuries are mainly superficial, my skin is burned but I am still very much alive.

“Sire?” I heard the clatter of feet rushing towards me, “Sire, are you alive?”

“No,” I murmur weakly, "but it has been many centuries since I was.” I hack and wince in my mirth as the vamps who’ve come back for me attempt to move me. I am both grateful and angered by their presence.

They venture closer, the five who returned. “A-are you here because you are cowards? W-where are the rest of my minions?”

One came forward, I could hear the nervousness in his voice as he spoke.

“The Slayer and her vampire, they slaughtered those left after the witch and the watcher all but destroyed our numbers. We minions are all that are left, we removed the rock at the entrance in a bid to save you, sire.”

“Come closer, I cannot hear you my son, please tell me more.” I speak with difficulty. My minion moves forward. “You return to save your master with no blood to revive him? Tis shameful.” I grasp his hand, “Then you shall give me your blood, is that not a fair trade?”

One runs, I hear the thwack of his feet running on stone as he makes his escape, even though I may be severely damaged, he fears me still. The other four drop to their knees, offering their wrists and helping me closer as I struggle to move.

“My blood is your blood and you must take it as you gave. We are nothing without you, my lord.” The spokes minion tells me reverently.

“Your offerings will not be in vain my sons.” I hear a throat cleared from the end of the line and notice the presence of a female. “Oh, please forgive me—sons and daughters.” She smiles and lowers her head again, “My lord.” She nods with a smirk. I like her spirit and I wish I didn't have need to drain her.

I sup from them, for once in my life thanking each one as they offer up their life’s blood to allow me strength. I’m not strong and my legs tremble as I cross the threshold after the long walk from the cave. I can still scent the slayer, even though my nostrils are charred, her blood makes my mouth water, and to think that idiot childe of Heinrich tasted her makes my fangs dip through my lower lips, I hiss in pain.

The sun is barely below the horizon as I sink to my knees in a futile attempt go to ground and I hear my escaped minion rustling in the bushes, he must know I can feel him, he is mine after all. “You shall live, my son, if you bury me so I can heal, I haven’t the strength.” I tell him. He ventures forth and begins to dig a hole with his hands as I lay in a foetal position in his burial pit. Before he covers my face with grit, I speak once more. “Bring me every virgin from the village to feed on when I awake this next night and you will be forgiven your cowardice.” I tell him, knowing I will take his head when he returns, and I am back to my true self.

He covers my face and I sleep once I hear him leave for the safety of the cave and brace myself for a stake through my heart. I was concerned he may be less afraid of me than I thought but he left, not taking the moment to dust me I would if our situations were reversed. I dream of four hundred years hence where I shall wait for the Slayer upon her arrival back in her own time. A vampire only has time, and she will pay tenfold for what she has done, along with William. In fact, I’m tempted to find a way to speak to Heinrich the pretender and warn him of the future Childe of Aurelius who would turn so easily on one of his kind. Oh, I have nothing but time to meddle and I sleep the sleep of the dead with wickedness written over my charred face.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, I couldnt leave you hanging too long on that cliffy, so I'm posting a shorter chapter this time. I've used a wee sentence from Series 5, Spiral in this one.  
> ………

I find myself in a room of fire and I know that I, Geoffrey Giles, man of God and once his perfect vessel in mind and body, have been cast down into the pit of Hell with no judgement, with not even a chance of redemption, to await my punishment at the hands of Lucifer himself.

I can’t see for the smoke, they’re coming for me though, big, burly arms lift me and they look like nothing I’ve ever seen before, they breath like sentient beings but through their black shrouds, their clothing streaked in yellow like the bile I know will drip from their jowls when they remove their disguises. “Away, you devils!” I shriek, “I will not come willingly, though I’m smited by my lord.” I begin to cough as the acrid smoke fills my chest, my vision faltering as the demons close in on me, trying to clothe my head in the same shroud. Oh, my lord, why do you forsake me! Is this to be my punishment? To become one of them. I scream as I’m carried away, kicking out as they take me to eternal torture! I begin to panic less once I feel true air once more. So, they allow me brief respite to show me how it will be once we reach the pit. I know I shall have to resign myself to my fate and begin to pray for my salvation.

“We’ve got a live one here, Lieutenant!” I hear a stilted voice breathe, his voice sounds reedy and distant.

“Damn god botherers! Take him to the medics, he can be their problem.” Another replies.

Lieutenant? Medics, they must be the ranks of demons serving the darkest of lords.

Light blinds me as I’m carried up to sunlight, this is truly cruel torture! To allow me to see things I will never see again once they take me to the pit. A blaring sound causes me to look towards the strange, red dragon, its silver teeth almost grinning at me as its deafening roar almost erupts my ears. Demons run to and fro with large red snakes spraying water as I’m carried to a metal box, not dissimilar to the one Buffy and Spike arrived in.

I’m made to sit as a beautiful woman comes to tend to me, she must be one of the devil’s whores and I manage to speak. “Do not touch me you babilonious whore!”

“Sir, I’m here to help, you have a nasty gash on your head, and you may need stiches.”

Stiches! The whore will sew closed my mouth so I cannot scream! “No! You will do no such thing!

“Johnson?” Another comes forth, they are like a hoard I have no chance to beat back. “Could you come take a look at this guy? He’s breathing but there’s no pulse or heartbeat, I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

I hear a loud groan behind me and turn to see a pair of familiar boots. Spike is here with me, like I didn’t think he would join the ranks of the tormented for his crimes against god.

“Gerrooffme!” I hear him shout, shooing them away as he sits up, holding his head tentatively, his face is covered in blood and he looks rather angry.

“For Christs sake! Less of the histrionics, Watcher, I’ve got a spittin’ headache here! These people are tryin’ to help you, they’re healers, you haven’t gone downstairs, you’re still in the land of the living, unlike some of us,” he smirks, flashing a toothy grin at the women, who look at each other fearfully. “To be honest, I agree that this place is like hell, never liked LA, never will.”

“Spike how are we here! We’re in your time then?”

“Don’t know how, mate, look, just be grateful we got here in one piece. Here’s your lover.” He nods behind my head and I see the most wonderous sight, my woman is heading towards me, her arms outstretched. She is a vision and wherever I am, I can make do, as long as she is here by my side.

“Eloise!” I call out as she rushes to my arms and I pull her close with abandon.

“I thought I’d lost you, dear Geoffrey.” She says tearfully, “I thought you hadn’t made it here with us.”

“I am here. Never leave me again my sweetest love.” I tell her, breathing a sigh of relief. I pull back when the thought strikes me, she knew where we were going. “You knew, my dear, how did you know we would travel to the future?”

“I have my ways.” She whispers, planting a sweet kiss on my cheek and I remember she has a way of reading people, she read the Warlock and saw his intentions, though lord knows how we managed to accompany he and Buffy. I’m sure the answers will come in time along with our learning of the rights and customs of this strange future we find ourselves in.

……………

 

“I’ll take it from here ladies.” I smirk, swinging my legs over the side of the gurney and hopping down.

“Please, sir, we’re concerned about your heart! We need to take you to Huntington Memorial to get you checked out.”

“Much as I appreciate your concern ladies, my hearts exactly as it should be. I’m sure there are other, worse off gits need savin’ so trot along an’ do your job.” I flick my fingers towards the walking wounded from the mall fire outside of the ambulance, they look unsure, but eventually leave to deal with the afflicted, along with medics from three other rigs.

Once they leave, I turn to the two love birds. “Get in.” I bark, dragging them both by the scruff as they resist. “Get in an’ hold on tight!” I yell back as I close the double doors, scanning around to see if anyone notices me commandeering the vehicle. I walk past them and climb into the driver’s seat, “You buggers holdin’ on? Cause daddy’s puttin’ the hammer down!” I whoop as I drive the stolen ambulance into downtown traffic. I haven’t had this much fun in years!

…………………

The house is quiet as usual as I arrive home after running most of the way. There’s something to be said about these new powers, I feel like I’ve run a marathon without the after effects, Buffy the super hero, heroine but not the drug. Mom and Dad are probably sloshed at some garden party, turned all-nighter somewhere. The suns going down now and I’ve kind of got used to being in the dark, so I let myself in with the spare key and don’t bother to turn on the lights. Everything still seems bright and noisy inside, I hear the whirr of the ice-maker in the kitchen and a clock close by ticks louder than before.

I head to the kitchen, half-starved after my journey and look inside the refrigerator, snagging a yogurt and some leftover chicken, which I sniff before deciding its good. Placing a drumstick in my mouth I close the refrigerator door to almost crap my pants as I see Lothos standing in its place.

Not real, not real, he is not here! This is some weird flashback. The yogurt slips through my fingers, breaks open and splashes on his boots. Shit!

I spit out the chicken and it lands with a thud on the floor. “You’re not here? You’re dead!” I speak, my voice sounds pretty calm to me, even as my heart hammers and I try to swallow through my dry throat. I know not to look him in the eye, I can’t take the risk as he could take me under his thrall like he did Spike.

He glances at the mess on his boots and tuts, giving me a smug look as he takes a step closer. “Why do people keep stating the obvious?” He shakes his head, “Yes, I’ve been dead for eight centuries, my dear. Now, shall we dispense with the pleasantries?”

Where is my frickin’ stake? I know it’s in the shopping bag I left in the hall as I entered. Now what am I gonna do. Think, Buffy, think! “H-how? How did you get here?” I want to know because Rack was with me and he was his only link.

He sighs and runs his fingers along one of the counter tops, his nasty long nails making a sound like chalk down a blackboard. “I suppose I’ve waited four-hundred years for you, whats another few minutes?”

“Geeze, manicure much?” I can’t help but blurt out, you can take the girl out of the valley…

He looks confused and disregards my comment. “Would you like one last meal? You do seem awfully hungry?”

I’m not hungry anymore, but I don’t want to show fear, so I nod, reaching inside the refrigerator for the plate of chicken and gently moving to sit across from him at the breakfast bar.

“Cut the crap and tell me why you’re here.” I say, biting into a piece of chicken that may as well be sawdust for how little I taste it. My display seems to amuse him, and he chuckles.

“I have a long memory, Buffy, so long I remember everyone who wronged me. Of course, I would remember you, the one who got away.”

I raise an eyebrow with more bravado than I feel. “Seems like a waste of time to me when you could be, what? Draining people, living in a cave, staying out of sight of the Slayer to spare your life?” I shrug.

“Hmm, you may think so, my dear, but you will pay your dues. Times has changed and lessened my feelings of wrath against you somewhat, so I’m willing to allow you to name the way you die. There need be no battle, I can end you here in a way of your choice.”

No damn way! I’ll be ending you, mister! I think, eyeing the rack of knives on the counter beside me and wondering how quickly I could cut into his gullet and rip off his head. “That’s not going to happen.” I hear my voice leave my mouth as almost a growl, low and deadly.

“Shame, I was so looking forward to getting this over and done with.”

“How did you know I’d be here, now?” I know he must have been watching the house for my return. I bit into the chicken leg, breaking off a splinter as he investigates his nasty, yellowed nails.

“I have my ways, my minions kept watch and sent for me when you arrived. I’ve lived in LA for several years, it’s a den of iniquity, filled with the undead and innumerable hot meals. I must admit I don’t like the junkies, but when the blood of your friend Kimberley flowed down my throat, I felt more alive than I ever did living on drug addicted dimwits. She was delectable, it’s been a while since I tasted virgin blood.”

Kimberley! Oh, my god, he’s killed her, and I only left her a few hours ago. Wait, what? She was a virgin? That is a surprise. I gulp and I think he may have seen it, but I dare not look up to his eyes to read him. “And my parents?”

“Tasteless and old in more ways than one,” He glances at the kitchen with distain, my parents have always followed the trends, however bad they may be, I agree with him there. “Alas, for the moment, they are alive, cirrhosis of the liver I can smell a mile off.”

“So, you’ve gotten into interior design this century?” I try to stall him, thanking whatever is out there that my parents are still alive, they may neglect me, but I still love them. The kitchen is filled with stainless steel, no wood in sight, I eye the chicken bone, a plan forming to shove it into the irritating vamps throat to buy some time.

“You’ve finished eating, little baby slayer, so I do think we should cut the small talk. If you’d look into my eyes it would be easier.” He stands, he’s pretty tall for a guy, six feet at least, but I’ve found that being small and fast outwits someone bigger, or at least in the fights I’ve had so far. This time it’s one on one and I’m not looking forward to it, especially as Spike’s always had my back.

Spike. He won’t know if I die here, that’s if he’s still alive or undead, or whatever he is. I wait to rise, and I can feel Lothos towering above me. “Tell me what happened to Spike.” I need to know if I might die here.

I dare a glance at his face, and he looks disturbed by my question, that gives me hope.

“Heinrich wouldn’t believe what I told him of his grandchilde and the Slayer, he waged war against me. I can tell you this because you’ll die tonight. William was turned by Drusilla, but I do not know if he came back to this time. I never had the displeasure of his company again in the time since you tried to defeat me.” His eyes are slits as I chance another glance and he strides forward, pushing my plate of chicken to the floor and moving to stand in front of the knives. “Now, I have given you enough time. You are beginning to bore me with your questions, and I have a need to feast on your blood. Lift your neck and give yourself to me, child, I will end this swiftly.”

I reach out and punch him in the sternum with everything I have, and he sags slightly before standing again. “A love tap, how kind of you, sweet Slayer, now, shall we get to the feasting?” He throws his head back and laughs.

…………………

I can feel myself battling inside Drusilla’s thrall, fighting with everything I have as we stalk the streets of LA. I watch her drain humans in the alleys of Sunset Strip, listening to the screams of prostitutes and rent boys before I’m forced to bin their bodies in dumpsters. Charles is always a few steps behind, looking worried and keeping watch as she lures one after the other away.

Eventually she is sated, and I watch her wipe the blood from her mouth gleefully with the back of her hand.

“My beautiful boys. Come, we shall seek the Slayer and burn the world when I find my Spike.” She spins in circles, her arms wide like a child.

I watch an ambulance race past us, driving erratically and she stills.

“Spike? My Spike!” She watches it drive away and Charles tries to soothe her. “No!” She pulls away from his grasp, “He isn’t alone! He wants her! I must end her and bring him back into the fold, my sweet William loves me, and he must forget her!” She weeps, her claws undulating before her.

I’m compelled to go to a taxi which has just pulled over and snap the driver’s neck. Bile is stagnant in my sternum, desperate for release as we enter the car and she has me drive them like a grisly chauffeur, after loading the cabby’s body into the trunk.

I drive until I am told to stop, arriving outside the very house where, a few weeks ago, we left together of their own accord.

The house is in darkness, and Drusilla almost floats as she peers into windows. There’s nothing I can do. I don’t know how I was so foolish; I took every precaution to ensure they remained locked up, but I could never plan for the thrall I’m now under and the pain I feel coiled inside as I undertake her bidding.

She wanders to the door, pushing it open with the tips of her fingers as she enters and a feeling of dread enters me, perhaps from her, or more likely my own.

“An elder is inside with the Slayer. She will die at my hands and not his.” I hear in my mind, more terrified by the fact she can invade my head with her thoughts than at her voice. I watch Charles nod in agreement as he looks back to me bidding me to follow.

I step into the entrance and hear a young girl choking from the kitchen as Drusilla rolls her neck.

“Oh, my boys, do look at what fun we’ve stumbled upon.” She says out loud.

I cringe as I’m thrown inside by Drusilla’s will, coming face to face with the elder she speaks of. He grabs me by the throat and screams in my face, “What is the meaning of this intrusion!” as he holds Buffy by the neck with his other hand. 

Our eyes lock, she doesn’t know I’m her Watcher and now I wonder if she ever will.


End file.
